THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS. 

AUTOBIOGKAPHY 

OF 

MARY  A.  NIEMEYER. 


"While  others  gaze  on  Nature's  face. 
The  verdant  vale,  the  mountains,  woods  and  streams, 
Or  with  delight  ineffable  survey 
The  Sun,  bright  image  of  this  parent  God ; 
Whilst  others 'view  Heaven's  all-involving  arch, 
Bright  witn  nnnumber'd  worldg,  and  lost  in  joy, 
Fair  order  and  utility  behold. 
To  me  those  fair  vicissitudes  are  lost. 
And  grace  and  beauty  blotted  from  my  view." 

— DB.  TUOMAB  BLACKLOCK 


REVISED 
BY 

SARA   S.   RICE. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
FEINTED  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &  CO. 

1878. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873X 
by  MAKY  A.  NIEMEYEU,  in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of 
Congress,  at  Washington. 


HV 

)(*z 

/V5SA3 


W  TO 

GEO.    B.    COLE,    Esq., 

SHIPPEXSBURG,  PA. 

"3 

As  the  fragrance  of  a  flower  lingers  long  in  the  air,  so 

^  does  the  remembrance  of  a  generous  friendship  fill  the 

heart  with  its  beauty.  Into  a  lot  that  is  shrouded  in 
darkness,  the  light  of  kindness  falls  as  welcome  as  the 
early  gleams  of  the  morning  sun,  making  all  things 
bright. 

As  a  tribute  of  high  esteem  and  grateful  appreciation 
of  practical  effort  to  illume  her  shadowed  way,  this  book 
J£  is  respectfully  dedicated  to  her  friend. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


456728 


PKEFACE. 


GENTLE  READER  :  It  is  not  supposed  you  have  opened 
this  book  to  read,  expecting  to  find  rare  intellectual 
pleasure,  or  the  gratification  of  any  sense  of  thrilling 
romance.  "Were  this  so,  its  lids  should  at  once  be  closed, 
and  its  very  name  forgotten.  It  is  a  life-history,  not 
startling  in  any  degree,  but  its  object  has  been  to  show, 
though  He  afflict,  how  good  God  is.  Truly  there  has 
been  light  in  darkness  all  the  way  along.  We  have  hoped 
to  serve  His  cause  in  the  lessons  drawn  even  from  the 
small  events  of  life,  and  we  trust  the  modest  messenger 
may  bear  some  note  of  cheer  to  hearts  that  have  known 
earthly  sorrow,  and  enliven,  perhaps,  for  an  evening  fire- 
side hour,  the  gathered  family  group. 


f  ijt  in 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF    MARY    A.    NIEMEYER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  There  is  a  land  of  every  land  the  pride, 
Beloved  by  Heaven  o'er  all  the  world  beside." 

Montgomery. 

"  Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land ! " 

Scott. 

In  the  village  of  Deisel,  about  twenty-four 
miles  from  the  city  of  Cassel,  Germany,  the 
subject  of  this  biography  was  born.  Here  her 
eyes  first  greeted  the  light  of  day ;  first  saw 
^Nature  robed  in  her  varied  mantles,  green  in 
the  early  Springtime,  sun-tinged  and  yellow  in 
the  strong  Summer  season ;  brown,  red  and 
sere  in  the  sombre  Autumn ;  and  snow-white 
when  Winter  had  folded  the  blossoms  of  flower 
and  fruit  away  in  his  bosom,  there  to  sleep  till 


10  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

awakened  to  life  and  vigor  again  by  the  return- 
ing Spring. 

A  brief  description  of  this  quiet  village, 
nestled  as  it  is  beneath  the  wing  of  the  better 
known  and  farther  famed  city  of  Cassel,  may 
not  be  uninteresting.  It  is  inhabited  princi- 
pally by  farmers,  its  population  numbering 
between  two  and  three  thousand  people. 
While  the  pursuits  are  mostly  agricultural,  as 
in  all  other  villages,  various  occupations  afford 
a  livelihood  to  the  residents. 

The  streets  are  regularly  laid  out,  and  are 
kept  neat  and  clean.  The  dwellings  are  large 
and  comfortable,  with  gardens  and  orchards 
attached.  The  Reformed  is  the  prevailing 
religious  belief.  There  is  but  one  Church  in 
the  place;  this  is  very  large  and  built  in 
Gothic  style.  It  is  noted  for  its  chime  of  bells, 
well  known  to  the  villagers,  and  loved  by 
them  for  their  sweetly  falling  cadences  or 
swelling  notes,  pealing  fortli  on  the  Sabbath 
morning  air,  calling  them  to  worship  within 
the  sacred  temple. 

The  organ,  with  the  characteristic  love  of 
good  music,  peculiar  to  the  Germans  as  a 
nation,  is  of  course  superior  in  volume  and 
quality  of  tone,  capable,  as  a  consequence,  of 


MART   A.   NIEMEYER.  11 

producing  both  strength  and  delicacy  of 
expression.  The  Germans  revel  in  music, 
either  sacred  or  otherwise,  and  Sabbath 
or  week  days,  it  constitutes  a  part  of  their 
enjoyment. 

The  services  are  always  well  attended.  The 
children  of  the  village  day  school,  both  boys 
and  girls,  occupy  the  galleries,  near  the  organ, 
and  their  sweet  voices  blend  in  rich  and  com- 
plete harmony  with  the  fuller  and  deeper  tones 
of  the  instrument,  making  a  glad  gush  of 
melody,  inspiring  to  both  heart  and  brain  of 
the  oldest  worshipper,  and  bringing  back  may- 
hap in  full  tide  a  rush  of  happy  memories  of 
times,  when  voices  now  cracked  and  shrill,  were 
equally  clear  and  ringing. 

The  Church  is  open  for  service  twice  every 
Sabbath,  morning  and  afternoon.  Very  neat 
and  trim  the  villagers  look,  as  in  their  best 
attire  they  wend  their  way  to  the  House  of 
God.  They  remember  the  command,  "  Six 
days  shalt  thou  labor  and  do  all  thy  work: 
but  the  seventh  day  is  the  Sabbath  of  the  Lord 
thy  God :  in  it  thou  shalt  not  do  any  work.'' 
They  are  devout  in  their  bearing,  and  hallow 
this  day  of  days  as  one  of  God's  greatest  bless- 
ings to  man. 


12  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

There   is   also   a    large    and   well-arranged 
school  house  in   the  village.     The   school  is 
divided  into  two  departments:   first,  the  pri- 
mary, where  the  children  remain  three  years, 
and  are  instructed  in  the  rudiments  of  educa- 
tion.     Then    follows    a  higher    department, 
where  the  full  course  is  five  years.     Here  a 
finished  and  even  elegant  education  may  be 
obtained,  and  the  student  may  graduate  with 
justly  earned  honors.    The  industrious  become 
highly  creditable  in   their  scholastic   attain- 
ments, as   they  have   every  facility   afforded 
them.      Their   graduation,   however,   renders 
incumbent  upon  them  early  confirmation  to 
the  Reformed  Church,  catechetical  instruction 
having   been  part  of  their   education.      The 
children  are  trained  in  the  religious  views  of 
their  parents,  and  are  not  so  likely  to  wander 
off  and  become  members  of  other  denomina- 
tions   as    soon    as   they    arrive    at    maturitv. 
Ties  are  more  closely  knit  if  a  whole  family 
worship  in  one  way.     Divided  religious  sen- 
timent is  perhaps  more  potent  than  any  other 
Influence  in  separating  the  interests  and  affec- 
tions of  a  home  circle.     It  is  a  rock,  'flower 
crowned  it  may  be,  still  one  that  has  wrecked 
many  a  household  bark. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEE.  13 

The  country  surrounding  the  village  is  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.  A  stretch  of  landscape 
most  pleasing  to  the  beholder  and  refreshing 
to  the  senses,  is  spread  out,  with  lavish  beauty 
decked.  The  public  roads  leading  to  this  open 
land  are  very  wide.  They  are  also  well  shaded 
by  fine  trees  planted  in  rows  on  each  side  of 
the  road.  Thus  avenues  are  formed,  in  which 
it  is  delightful  to  stroll  during  the  warm  Sum- 
mer weather. 

Travel  is  mostly  on  foot.  In  order  to  afford 
comfort  and  rest  to  the  pedestrian,  neat  and 
inviting  arbors  are  stationed  all  along  the  way, 
at  the  distance  of  about  a  mile  apart.  Thus 
the  fatigue  of  a  long  walk  is  obviated;  and 
what  might  otherwise  be  attended  with  dis- 
comfort, is  made  pleasurable  and  inviting. 
The  healthful  exercise  of  walking  is  much 
indulged  in,  and  doubtless  has  its  influence  in 
preventing  any  dyspeptic  tendency  among  the 
people.  With  these  arbors  in  which  to  rest  if 
weary,  one  cannot  wonder  at  this  habit  of  the 
villagers.  They  are  indeed  charming  spots, 
where  the  traveller  may  be  screened  from  the 
heat  of  the  noonday  sun.  Or  children  in  their 
gambols  and  heyday  play,  may  find  in  them 
refuge  from  the  sudden  storm,  threatening  dis-  ' 


14:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

may,  were  it  not  for  these  wayside  shelterers. 
But  as  they  know  these  safe  retreats  are  near 
at  hand,  they  fearlessly  anticipate  the  storm, 
ready  to  escape  to  their  refuge  at  the  first  vivid 
flash  of  the  lightning  in  zigzag  lines  athwart 
the  sky  ;  or  at  the  low  muttered  roll  of  the 
thunder's  distant  voice. 

The  country  is  beautifully  diversified  with 
hills  and  valleys,  green  fields  and  meadows, 
and  one  can  but  admire  the  panorama  of 
beauty  spread  out  before  them.  Not  least 
among  the  natural  attractions,  are  the  hedges 
of  various  kinds  enclosing  the  fields.  These 
bloom  the  greater  part  of  the  year  form- 
ing bright  borders  of  many  hues,  and  giv- 
ing the  whole  country  a  fresh  and  lovely 
appearance. 

The  village  is  a  busy,  bustling  place.  Activ- 
ity and  diligence  are  everywhere  apparent. 
No  signs  of  sloth  and  indolence  are  visible. 
Each  morning  the  farmer  may  be  seen  driving 
his  cattle  through  the  streets,  and  bearing  his 
farming  implements  and  other  necessary  uten- 
sils out  to  the  fields,  that  are  to  be  tilled,  or 
sown,  or  reaped.  "With  glad  face  and  hopeful 
heart  he  goes  forth,  for  he  knows  labor  will  bring 
its  own  reward.  The  fields  are  spread  before 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  15 

him,  and  wait  but  his  diligent  hand  "  to  laugh 
in  harvest."  Other  workmen,  too,  may  be 
Been  engaged  in  their  various  occupations,  but 
all  equally  evidencing  good  will  and  strong 
purpose,  that  must  overcome  every  obstacle, 
and  in  the  end  secure  solid  advantage. 

This  is  no  fancy  sketch.  This  modest  little 
village  is  all  I  have  pictured  it — a  thriving, 
prosperous  place — and  the  sturdy  enterprise  of 
its  people,  of  course,  makes  it  what  it  is.  God 
gives  man  his  opportunity,  he  must  use  it  if  he 
would  not  have  his  life  a  failure.  He  must 
toil,  "  must  earn  his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his 
brow,"  or  sink  to  the  level  of  the  brute  that 
browses  on  the  plain  ;  or  lower  still,  to  that  of 
the  creature  that  needs  not  the  soft  grass  for  a 
couch,  but  takes  a  bed  whose  miry  consistence 
suits  best  his  grovelling  nature.  Labor  is  a 
God-like  principle.  It  lifts  man  nearer  hi? 
iirst  and  lost  estate.  It  makes  a  second  Eder 
of  the  earth  in  which  we  live.  It  always 
brings  with  it  sweet  recompense,  slumber  to 
the  weary,  hope  to  the  downcast,  and  every 
blessing  the  largest  desire  could  demand.  If 
we  have  nobly  striven  in  our  sphere,  whatever 
it  may  be,  we  may  surely  expect  "  after  life's 
fitful  fever,"  when  death  heaves  in  view, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


"  To  approach  the  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 

With  its  people  occupied  in  various  ways, 
some  off  in  the  fields,  others  in  their  homes, 
Deisel  during  the  day  presents  a  deserted 
appearance.  The  streets  are  quiet,  the  houses 
closed,  even  the  children  are  not  heard.  But 
when  evening  comes  on,  and  the  farmers  return 
from  the  fields,  the  workmen  from  their  shops, 
the  wives  and  mothers  have  finished  their  daily 
domestic  employments,  and  the  children  are 
out  of  school,  the  scene  is  a  most  lively  one. 
The  streets  are  cheerful,  doors  and  windows 
are  open,  and  the  merry  sound  of  happy  voices 
falls  on  the  ear,  and  the  village  seems  as  "for 
a  feast  arrayed." 

The  people  are  lively  and  fond  of  music. 
They  spend  their  evenings  in  social  gatherings. 
Singing  is  one  of  their  chief  enjoyments.  They, 
however,  have  other  amusements,  for  they  are 
a  pleasure-loving  people,  and  games  of  various 
kinds  are  participated  in  by  both  old  and 
young.  This  is  a  delightful  way  to  close  the 
day.  All  care  is  forgotten  in  the  evening,  and 
mirth  and  jollity  reign  supreme. 

The  climate   is   salubrious   and   healthful. 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYER.  17 

This,  added  to  their  thrifty,  prudent  habits, 
makes  the  inhabitants  sturdy  and  vigorous. 
You  seldom  meet  a  man,  woman  or  child, 
whose  cheek  is  not  mantled  with  the  rosy  blush 
of  health.  There  is  generally  no  resident 
physician  in  the  place,  for  the  simple  and  very 
satisfactory  reason,  his  services  are  too  seldom 
required  to  afford  one  even  a  moderate  amount 
of  occupation,  and,  of  course,  no  sufficient 
compensation  could  be  secured  to  ensure  a 
livelihood.  Hence,  Dame  Nature  is  her  chil- 
dren's almoner  of  healing  draughts,  and  her 
cures  are  oftener  attained  than  are  those  of 
some  more  modern  modes  of  treatment.  She, 
at  least,  is  not  a  quack,  and  suggests  no  aston- 
ishing remedy  as  panacea  for  all  the  woes  of 
humankind.  She  is  a  physician,  good  and 
true,  who,  her  laws  observed,  gives  in  exchange 
health  and  long  life.  But  do  her  laws  violence, 
throw  aside  her  simple  teachings  for  those 
higher  sounding  in  their  unintelligible  terms, 
and  naught  but  woe  and  sore  distress  will  fol- 
low ;  a  life  made  up  of  ills,  for  which  there  is 
no  redress  this  side  the  grave. 

In  Deisel  the  women  are  famous  for  their 
industry.     They  are  not  idle   even  in  their 


18  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

hours  of  relaxation;  but  generally  are  like 
good  old  John  Gilpin's  wife — 

"  Who,  though  on  pleasure  she  was  bent, 
She  had  a  frugal  mind." 

You  see  them  constantly  with  knitting  in 
their  hands,  diligently  plying  the  swiftly  flying 
needles,  till  the  well-knit  hose,  the  tidy  neck 
comforter,  or  the  warm  winter  hood,  is  wrought. 
In  their  walks,  too,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  to 
see  them  thus  employed,  destroying  perhaps 
to  some  extent  the  teaching  of  the  old  and  long 
accepted  maxim,  "  One  cannot  do  well  any 
two  things  at  a  time." 


MARY   A.   NIEMEYEK.  19 


CHAPTEK  II. 

"Why  is  the  hearse  with  'scutcheons  blazoned  round, 
And  with  nodding  plumes  of  ostrich  crowned  ? 

Gay's  Trivia. 

"I  do  love  these  ancient  ruins: 
We  never  tread  upon  them,  but  we  set 
Our  foot  upon  some  rev'rend  history. 

Webster's  Duches*  of  Malfy. 

"  Heigh  ho !  daisies  and  buttercups, 
Fair  yellow  daffodils,  stately  and  tall — 
A  sunshiny  world  full  of  laughter  and  leisure, 
And  fresh  hearts  unconscious  of  sorrow  and  thrall." 

Jean  Ingdow. 

"The  fading  many-colored  woods, 
Shade  deep'ning  over  shade,  the  country  round 
Imbrown." 

Jos.  Tlumson. 

The  customs  of  Deisel  are,  in  some  respects, 
peculiar  to  itself,  and  in  a  degree  individualize 
the  otherwise  not  remarkable  place.  Funerals 
have  here  some  features  not  elsewhere  observed. 
The  authorities  require  the  corpse  to  be  retained 
in  the  house  three  days  before  burial.  This  is 
to  determine  beydnd  a  doubt  if  life  is  really 


20  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

extinct,  and  to  give  the  apparently  lifeless 
form  every  possible  chance  of  revivification. 
The  people  have  a  superstitious  horror  of  bury- 
ing a  friend  alive,  and  take  every  precaution 
to  prevent  so  sad  a  catastrophe.  If  the  pulse 
be  surely  still  in  death,  if  every  means  have 
failed  to  restore  animation,  they  further  pro- 
ceed to  prepare  the  remains  for  interment. 
The  body  is  placed  in  a  coffin ;  if  the  deceased 
were  less  than  twenty-five  years  of  age,  the 
coffin  is  decorated  with  plumes,  ribbons  and 
flowers ;  if  over  twenty-five  years,  it  is  draped 
with  heavy  black  cloth,  on  which  are  inscribed 
verses  of  Scripture,  in  gilt  letters,  the  sentiment 
appropriate  to  the  event  commemorated. 

Singing  funerals  are  those  occasions,  where 
plaintive  music  depicts  the  virtues  of  the  dead 
and  the  sorrow  of  the  living.  These  are 
observed  only  in  memory  of  grown  persons. 
The  teachers  and  scholars  of  the  village  school 
are  well  trained  in  vocal  music.  They  assem- 
ble at  the  house  where  the  funeral  is  to  take 
place,  and  the  singing  obsequies  are  conducted 
entirely  ,by  them.  Several  hymns,  dirge-like 
and  sad,  are  sung  at  the  house;  after  which 
the  minister  offers  a  prayer.  Then  the  musi- 
cians, friends  and  mourners,  form  a  procession, 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  21 

and  walk,  carrying  the  remains,  to  the  ceme- 
tery. The  teachers  and  scholars  lead,  singing 
as  they  ^,0  a  low,  sweet  melody,  in  memory  of 
the  dead.  Behind  them  are  six  men,  the  pall- 
bearers. They  bear  on  their  shoulders  the 
coffin.  Next,  the  relatives  and  friends  of  the 
deceased,  clad  in  mourning,  and  bewailing  the 
loss  of  their  loved  one,  move  slowly  forward. 

The  burial  ground  is  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  village.  When  it  is  reached  the 
body  is  lowered  into  the  grave.  All  the  while 
the  music  has  continued.  The  bells  have  been 
tolling,  and  the  scene  is  altogether  a  most 
impressive  one.  The  ceremony  of  interment 
over,  the  company  wend  their  way  to  the 
church.  There  a  sermon  is  delivered.  The 
virtues  of  the  departed  are  recounted,  and  a 
lesson  is  drawn  for  the  living. 

Once  more  all  meet  at  the  house  where  the 
funeral  took  place.  This  time  they  assemble 
to  partake  of  a  repast  prepared  for  the  occasion. 
Thus  it  is,  life  with  death  is  blended.  We 
mourn  and  weep,  but  ere  long  forget  the  pall 
and  shroud  and  last  adieu.  We  soon  recall 
but  dimly  amid  the  bustle  of  the  world's  ongo- 
ing, the  friend  we  have  lost.  This  may  be 
well.  It  would  not  be  best  for  us  to  brood  too 


22 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


long  or  deeply  over  our  sorrow.  We  owe 
duties  to  the  living  and  must  put  our  grief 
aside,  that  we  may  be  able  to  fufil  them. 
There  is  comfort  for  hearts  that  are  bowed 
down,  in  the  thought  that,  although  there  is  a 
time  for  sighing,  there  cometh  also  a  season  for 
rejoicing.  To-night  may  be  dark,  to-mor- 
row, radiant  with  light,  so  checkered  is  our 
way. 

Another  custom  peculiar  to  Deisel  is  the 
dedication   of  the   dwellings.      When  a  new 
house  is  finished,  the  villagers  collect,  form  a 
procession,  and  pass  through  the  streets,  headed 
by  two  young  men  carrying  a  bush.    This  bush 
is  trimmed  with  wreaths,  boquets  and  ribbons. 
Six  young  girls  follow  dressed  in  gay  colors, 
crowned  with  flowers,  and  holding  boquets  in 
their  hands.     Following  these   again  are  the 
men,  women  and  children  of  the  village,  all 
singing  songs  suitable  to  the  occasion.     When 
the  house  is  reached,  the  bush  is  placed  upon 
the  roof  and  securely  fastened  there.     This  is 
a  fanciful  house  crowning,  it  is  true,  but  is 
symbolic  in  its  usage.     Songs  and  speeches  are 
in  order,  and  a  festive  time  is  made  of  it.     A 
dinner  follows,  and  every  delicacy  tempts  the 
palate.     The  idea  of  thus  introducing  into  a 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  23 

new  dwelling  mirth  and  gladness,  is  surely  an 
excellent  one.  Were  such  genii  more  fre- 
quently to  preside  in  our  homes,  clouds  would 
not  settle  on  the  domestic  horizon,  but  would 
drift  away,  leaving  no  trace  behind  them. 
There  is  a  good  and  kindly  sentiment  in  the 
custom,  and  a  dash  of  poetry  beside. 

When  passing  through  the  forests  in  this 
part  of  Germany,  one  can  but  observe  the 
unusual  appearance  of  the  soil.  It  has  every 
indication  of  having  been,  at  some  remote 
period,  cultivated.  The  wanderer  will  also 
meet  with  relics  of  a  bygone  time  in  the  ruins 
of  ancient  castles;  their  demolished  walls  and 
dilapidated  towers  reminding  only  of  a  glory 
past,  and  causing  the  thoughtful  to  pause  and 
ponder  on  the  mutability  of  all  mere  earthly 
greatness,  how  surely  it  must  crumble  into 
waste  and  nothingness. 

There  are  also  scattered  ruins  of  towns, 
which  probably  had  been  destroyed  by  war 
hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  which  are  now  only 
to  be  recognized  in  these  vestiges  of  their  former 
selves.  This  is  the  acme  of  all  human  history, 
to  rise,  flourish  for  a  day,  then  to  pass  away, 
giving  place  to  another  busy,  bustling  scene  of 
action,  and  leaving  to  others  the  parts  in  life's 


24:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

drama,  some  may  have  vainly  fancied  they 
could  best  perform.  It  is  well  we  are  not  left 
to  our  own  discretion  as  to  our  ability  to  do,  or 
our  worthiness  to  be  considered ;  for  were  we 
so  left,  we  should  make  grave  errors.  It  is 
therefore  wisest  that  all  our  changes  are  chosen 
for  us. 

There  comes  welling  up  from  my  heart  a 
full  tide  of  tender,  cherished  memories,  as  I 
thus  recall  the  characteristics  of  my  childhood's 
home,  and  I  can  but  linger  among  these  scenes 
of  my  youth.  To  sketch  them  in  all  their 
varied  beauty,  would  be  a  task  quite  beyond 
my  feeble  pen ;  but  if  words,  warm  from  a  lov- 
ing heart,  can  fitly  portray  these  visions  of  a 
day  that  is  fled,  I  shall  at  least  secure  kindly 
sympathy  from  those  who  may  with  me  visit 
the  land  that  gave  me  birth,  and  the  home 
where  first  I  learned  to  lisp  a  mother's  name. 
Gentle  reader,  you  and  I  are  children  again. 
We  will  bask  in  the  sunshine  together,  listen 
to  the  carol  of  the  summer  birds,  see  mirrored 
in  the  crystal  brook  our  laughing  eyes  and 
health  crowned  cheeks;  for  not  then  had  my 
sky  been  darkened,  not  even  a  misty  cloud  hud 
shown  itself;  I  looked  upon  Nature  and  saw 
her  loveliness,  with  no  thought  of  a  future  with- 


MAET    A.    NIEMEYEB.  25 

out  a  ray  from  sun  or  moon  or  star,  to  illumine 
it.  I  little  thought  then  that  ere  many  years 
had  fled,  the  sight  of  all  external  objects  would 
be  lost  to  me.  But  we  will  leave  the  shadows 
for  the  present,  and  luxuriate  in  the  bright  and 
beautiful. 

In  the  village  of  Deisel  the  season  of  Spring 
seemed  especially  delightful.     Children  might 
be  seen  constantly  in  merry  groups,  gathering 
flowers,  the  spontaneous  product  of  the  soil; 
for  verily  the  hills,  meadows,  dales,  hedges  and 
banks  of  streamlets,  were  covered  with  every 
variety  of  floral  growth.     Beautiful  blossoms 
of  all  forms  and  colors,  some  appearing  so 
choice  and  delicate,  one  would  suppose  they 
needed  the  most  careful  culture,  sprang  unbid- 
den from  the  earth.     They  looked  with  tender 
eyes,  soft  and  blue,  or  with  blushes  deeper  than 
of  crimson  dye,  from  verdant  beds  up  into  our 
faces,  with  a  greeting  in  their  own,  and  breathed 
on  the  welcoming  air  a  fragrance  entrancing  to 
the  senses. 

I  often  fancy  even  now,  though  years  hare 
passed  since  these  scenes  were  spread  before 
me,  that  I  am  again  with  my  little  companions, 
plucking  these  beautiful  flowers,  filling  our 
aprons  with  them,  tossing  some  aloft,  to  see 
3 


26  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

them  scatter  their  delicate  petals  and  fall  to 
the  earth,  shorn  of  their  loveliness.  Then  we 
are  trying  to  see  if  butter  is  loved,  by  placing 
the  saucy  buttercup  under  the  chin,  or  having 
a  wild  hunt  for  a  lady's  slipper,  seeking  the 
modest  daisy,  wherewith  to  make  a  chain  to 
entrap  some  wanderer  from  elf-land ;  running 
about  to  search  for  a  desolate  bachelor's  button, 
or  perhaps  hiding  away  a  Sweet  William,  to 
see  if  the  fairies  would  send  a  prince  by  that 
name  to  woo  some  fair  Cinderella,  with  her 
pumpkin  coach  and  slipper  of  glass. 

Thus  we  revelled  among  the  flowers  till 
Autumn,  with  its  nuts  and  berries,  came. 
Then  we  sped  to  the  woods  and  loaded  ourselves 
with  the  toothsome  things,  and  brought  them 
home  as  trophies  to  our  mothers,  who  carefully 
stowed  them  away  for  "Winter's  fireside  enjoy- 
ment. 

During  the  seasons  of  Spring,  Summer,  and 
ofttimesfar  into  the  Autumn,  the  public  pleasure 
gardens,  situated  a  short  distance  from  the  vil- 
lage, are  favorite  resorts  for  the  people.  They 
are  laid  out  in  walks,  with  flower  Jbeds  and 
vine-covered  arbors  scattered  here  and  there. 
The  amusements  are  music  and  dancing.  These 
are  participated  in  by  persons  ©f  all  ages,  and 


MAKY   A.    NIEMEYER.  27 

for  a  few  hours  of  each  evening  everybody  is 
seeking  recreation.  Refreshment  can  be  had 
at  a  small  cost,  which  aids  in  making  these 
gardens  almost  social  in  their  character. 

The  seasons  over  admitting  outdoor  pleas- 
ures, and  the  winter,  with  its  frosts  and  chilling 
winds,  making  the  fireside  attractive,  the  young 
men  and  women  gather  at  each  other's  houses. 
They  bring  their  spinning  wheels  with  them, 
for  flax  is  one  of  the  principal  products  of  this 
part  of  Germany.  The  evening  hours  are 
spent  in  chat  and  song,  intermingled  with  the 
steady  whirring  of  the  busy  wheel.  Children 
at  the  age  of  nine  and  ten  years  can  spin  as 
well  as  some  grown  persons.  Time  flies  swiftly 
and  agreeably,  mirth  and  industry  filling  the 
hours.  Thrift  is  made  attractive,  and  becomes 
characteristic  of  the  people.  And  often  too  at 
such  times  a  certain  sly  little  god,  with  bow 
and  arrow  ready  to  command,  forms  one  of  the 
number  in  these  assemblies,  and  other  threads 
are  spun  than  those  that  wind  out  in  lengthen- 
ing line  from  the  steadily  turning  wheel. 
Heart  and  foot  and  hand  keep  time  until  a 
web  of  life  is  formed,  and  the  sly  god,  with 
emptied  quiver,  laughs  at  the  mischief  he  has 
done. 


28  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 


CHAPTER  III. 

"Life  is  from  Thee,  blessed  Father, 

From  Thee  our  breathing  spirits; 
And  Thou  dost  give  to  all  that  live 
The  bliss  that  each  inherits." 

R.  Ware,  Jr. 

"Thou  art  the  victor,  Death! 
Thou  comest,  and  where  is  that  which  spoke 
From  the  depths  of  the  eye,  when  the  bright  soul  woke? 
Gone  with  the  flitting  breath ! 

Felicia  Hemans. 

My  parents  and  grandparents  were  born  in 
Deisel.  My  parents  were  companions  at  school. 
At  the  age  of  fourteen  they  were  confirmed  at 
the  same  altar.  When  eighteen  years  old,  my 
father  went  to  the  military  school.  He  re- 
mained there  five  years  as  student,  and  a  year 
and  a  half  as  officer.  He  would  have  remained 
longer,  but  being  the  eldest  son,  was  needed  at 
home  to  assist  his  father,  who  was  engaged  in 
farming,  and  who  was  also  carrying  on  exten- 
sively the  boot  and  shoe  business. 

Upon  his  return,  the  early  friendship,  which 
had  existed  between  my  father  and  mother 
when  children,  was  renewed.  The  feeling 


MAEY   A.    NIEMEYER.  29 

ripened  into  a  strong  attachment,  and  they 
were  married  in  a  short  time. 

My  mother  was  the  youngest  child  of  her 
parents ;  so,  according  to  the  usage  of  the 
country,  my  father  went  to  reside  at  her  home. 
The  old  homestead  was  given  up  to  them,  my 
grand  parents  living  with  them.  Shortly  after 
her  marriage,  my  mother's  father  died,  full  of 
years,  and  ripe  for  the  tomb.  A  life  well  spent 
brought  with  its  close  no  unavailing  regrets. 

I  have  frequently  heard  my  mother  speak 
of  his  death  as  the  calmest  she  had  ever  wit- 
nessed. During  the  day  on  which  he  died,  he 
was  more  composed  than  usual.  With  perfect 
resignation  he  told  his  family  he  should  not 
see  the  dawn  of  another  day.  "When  they 
tried  to  persuade  him  this  impression  was  only 
a  fancy,  he  insisted  that  they  would  find  he 
was  correct,  and  that  ere  the  day  had  passed 
he  should  be  no  more. 

He  besought  all  his  family  to  be  faithful  to 
their  God;  to  serve  Him  diligently;  to  lead 
noble,  honorable  lives,  doing  all  the  good  within 
their  power  while  in  the  world,  that  when 
death  should  come,  they  could  sink  peacefully 
to  rest,  with  no  remorse  to  make  bitter  their 
last  hours.  He  urged  those  near  and  dear  to 


30  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

him  on  earth  to  meet  him  in  heaven.     He  then 
in  failing  accents,  murmured  the  touching  lines: 

"Earthly  home,  adieu,  adieu, 
Earthly  friends,  farewell  to  you 
Softly  breathe  your  last  good-bye, 
Jesus  calls  me,  let  me  die." 

The  cold  sweat  of  death  had  settled  on  his 
brow,  his  voice  grew  inarticulate,  and  the 
spirit  fled  to  the  God  who  gave  it. 

A  few  months  later  my  grandmother  died. 
She  missed  the  strong  arm  she  had  leaned 
up.on,  and  followed  in  a  little  while  her  hus- 
band. Death  did  not  sunder  them  long.  God 
was  very  good,  and  took  her  to  Himself.  Earth 
had  no  charms  for  her,  separated  from  K:m  by 
whose  side  she  had  stood  in  sunshine  and  &torm 
for  many  years.  She  rejoiced  as  she  neared 
the  swelling  tide  of  Jordan's  waves,  and  with 
a  bright  smile  on  her  face  she  passed  away.  It 
seemed  as  though  she  had  had  a  greeting  from 
the  heavenly  land,  ere  with  folded  hands  she 
fell  asleep  never  to  waken  more.  These  were 
cherished  memories  with  my  mother,  and  she 
often  told  us  of  the  last  days  of  our,  grand- 
parents. It  was  her  earnest  desire  so  to  end 
her  life,  calmly,  peacefully,  yet  full  of  a  blissful 
hope  beyond  the  grave. 


MART   A.    KIEMEYER. 


31 


At  the  time  of  these  occurrences  I  was  an 
infant  of  fifteen  months.  My  grandparents 
were  dotingly  fond  of  me.  My  grandmother 
watched  over  me  with  unceasing  care.  I  was 
very  delicate,  and  she  feared  the  frail  babe 
might  let  go  her  slender  hold  on  life.  Over 
and  over  again  have  these  things  been  told  me, 
till  I  have  almost  thought  I  myself  knew  them 
to  be  facts. 

My  father's  mother  died  in  middle  life,  and  in 
a  few  years  my  grandfather  married  again.  The 
lady  who  became  his  second  wife  had  been  the 
belle  of  the  village.  She  was  very  attractive 
in  personal  appearance.  She  was  devoted  to 
fashion  and  gaiety.  Her  heart  seemed  wholly 
given  up  to  worldly  pleasure.  Her  tastes  were 
extravagant,  and  she  indulged  them  to  the 
utmost.  My  grandfather  married  this  lady  after 
an  acquaintance  of  six  months.  He  lost  sight 
of  the  disparity  between  their  modes  of  living, 
and  did  not  appear  to  be  aware  of  her  frivolity 
of  character.  His  children  regretted  the  step 
he  had  taken.  They  concluded  to  leave  home. 
My  father  was  the  eldest  of  seven  children, 
and  had  been  some  time  married.  My  grand- 
father's second  marriage  did  not  affect  his 
domestic  happiness,  as  he  was  not  living  with 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

his  father.  But  the  other  children  felt  keenly 
the  change  in  their  home. 

After  a  few  weeks'  wedding  tour,  the  newly 
married  couple  returned  to  find  themselves  the 
Bole  occupants  of  the  house.  Grandfather 
had  not  expected  this ;  but  his  children  refused 
to  call  his  wife  mother ;  nor  would  they  endure 
to  see  her  take  their  mother's  place.  They 
requested  that  some  provision  by  which  they 
could  make  a  livelihood,  should  be  made  for 
them.  They  had  resolved  to  seek  a  home  else- 
where. The  old  homestead  had  now  no  charm 
for  them.  Its  light  had  fled  ;  the  steady  light 
of  maternal  love  had  gone  out,  not  to  be  rekin- 
dled. Their  father  acceded  to  their  wishes. 
Five  of  the  family  settled  in  the  neighboring 
towns.  One  sailed  for  America,  to  try  the 
experiences  of  a  new  country.  My  father  only 
remained  in  the  village. 

Thus  a  family  was  scattered,  and  those  fondly 
attached  were  separated,  never  again  to  form 
an  unbroken  household.  The  providence  was 
inscrutable.  Life's  cup  may  be  filled  to  the 
brim  with  sweets,  yet  contain  one  bitter  drop. 
Our  lots  may  have  much  of  joy  in  them,  but 
there  will  lurk  in  each  some  sorrow.  It  is  the 
world's  great  lesson,  which  all  humanity  must 


MART   A.    NIEMEYER.  33 

learn.  To  us  remains  only  resignation.  "We 
must  unmurmuringly  submit  to  circumstances 
and  dispensations  beyond  our  control.  Sooner 
or  later  all  must  accept  this  truth,  for  we  hold 
not  the  issues  of  a  single  moment.  To  us  life 
is  mystery,  but  there  is  One  who  knoweth  every 
hidden  thing,  and  in  His  own  good  time  He 
will  reveal. 

My  father  and  mother  were  very  comfortably 
situated.  Our  family  group  was  a  happy  one* 
The  merry  ring  of  childish  laughter  dispelled 
all  gloom.  My  mother  was  cheerful  and  con- 
tented. She  strove  to  instil  into  our  young 
minds  lessons  of  truth,  obedience,  and  love. 
She  guided  our  feeble,  tottering  footsteps,  with 
all  a  mother's  watchfulness.  After  the  toil  of 
the  day  was  over,  and  father  came  home,  we 
had  a  joyous  time.  Care  was  forgotten,  and 
he  became  a  child  again,  and  played  every  sort 
of  game  with  his  little  ones.  All  day  we 
longed  for  the  evening  to  come,  that  we  might 
enjoy  these  sports. 

There  probably  is  not  to  be  found  the  man 
or  woman  who  does  not  look  back  upon  the 
days  of  childhood  with  all  the  admiration  and 
fond  romance  one  has  for  pictures  drawn  from 
fairy  land.  The  heart  must  become  sere  indeed, 


34:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

that  does  not  glow  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
sweet  voice  of  some  prattling  sister,  or  bound- 
ing step  of  a  light-hearted,  fun-loving  brother, 
whose  mischievous  pranks  may  have  even 
annoyed  our  girlish  sense  of  propriety. 

The  house  in  which  I  was  born  was  pleas- 
antly located.  Attached  to  it  was  a  large 
vegetable  and  flower  garden,  also  a  fine  orchard 
of  various  fruit  trees.  My  grandfather  had 
owned  the  property  many  years.  He  had 
inherited  it  from  his  father.  Upon  my  mother's 
marriage,  he  had  removed  the  old  house  and 
erected  a  new  one.  This  was  large  and  well- 
arranged,  with  barn  and  stable  in  the  rear.  It 
was  built  of  stone  and  wood.  We  occupied 
this  homestead  until  father  decided  to  emigrate 
to  America.  Mother  then  sold  it  to  her  nephew, 
Henry  Koester.  She  was  anxious  for  the  pro- 
perty to  remain  in  the  Schildtknecht  family, 
as  it  had  been  owned  by  them  for  nearly  a 
century. 

My  father's  family  had  always  resided  very 
near  my  mother's  home.  The  two  families  had 
been  on  the  most  intimate  terms  until  the  time 
of  my  grandfather  Niemeyer's  second  mar- 
riage. This  circumstance  had  produced  an 
unfortunate  estrangement.  Still,  as  it  appeared 


MAKT   A.    NIEMETEK.  35 

to  have  resulted  agreeably  for  grandfather,  his 
children  were  becoming  somewhat  reconciled 
to  it.  Mrs.  Niemeyer  had  laid  aside  many  of 
her  excesses,  was  less  extravagant,  and  showed 
a  desire  to  conform  to  her  husband's  wishes 
and  more  quiet  mode  of  life.  This  tended 
greatly  to  ameliorate  the  strong  feeling  of 
opposition  to  the  marriage  which  had  at  first 
existed. 

The  Easter  and  Christmas  seasons  are  with 
the  Germans  occasions  of  peculiar  significance. 
They  are  celebrated,  perhaps,  with  more  form 
than  in  any  other  country.  Thursday  before 
Good  Friday,  is  a  joyful  day  to  the  young  folks 
of  Deisel. 

An  old  and  wealthy  citizen,  who  was  known 
to  be  especially  fond  of  children,  but  wrho  was 
very  eccentric,  had,  a  great  number  of  years 
before  my  story  begins,  at  his  death  left  a 
legacy  to  the  children  of  the  village.  This 
was  to  be  used  to  give  them  a  treat  on  the  day 
named.  The  custom  was  one  in  which  all  took 
great  pleasure.  All  the  little  boys  and  girls 
between  infancy  and  fourteen  years  of  age, 
dressed  in  their  best  attire,  proceeded  to  the 
Churchyard.  Here  a  table  was  spread  with 
everything  that  was  tempting  to  the  eye 


36  AUTOBIOGEAPHY    OF 

and  palate.  The  afternoon  was  appropriated 
to  the  enjoyment  of  this  repast.  Never  will 
any  who  partook  of  the  good  tilings  so  gener- 
ously provided  for  them,  forget  the  pleasures 
of  these  festival  days.  The  memory  of  the 
kind  donor  who  had  made  happy  so  many 
childish  hearts,  was  always  touchingly  referred 
to,  and  a  thought  of  gratitude  was  cherished 
by  even  the  tiniest  little  one  present. 

At  Easter  great  preparations  are  made  for 
the  students  who  are  to  be  confirmed.  The 
outfit  for  the  occasion  is  white.  It  is  presented 
to  the  candidates  by  their  god-parents.  The 
Churches  at  this  season  are  beautifully  decked 
with  evergreens  and  flowers ;  and  the  ceremony 
of  confirmation  is  very  solemn  and  imposing. 
My  parents  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  two  of 
their  children,  confirmed  before  leaving  their 
native  land. 

On  Easter  Monday  the  young  people  hold  a 
pic-nic  a  short  distance  from  the  village.  The 
principal  feature  of  the  day  is  the  great  variety 
of  Easter-eggs.  These  are  beautifully  colored, 
and  the  children  find  great  amusement  in 
"  picking  "  them.  This  is  in  observance  of  an 
old  custom  handed  down  from  the  remote  past. 
Easter-fires,  Easter-eggs,  and  many  other  cus- 


MART   A.    NIEMETEE.  37 

toms  and  superstitions,  have  all  their  origin 
from  the  ancient  heathen  feast,  which,  as  the 
celebration  of  the  resurrection  of  Nature,  was 
very  appropriately  succeeded  by  the  festival 
which  commemorates  the  resurrection  of  Christ. 
But  the  children  do  not  moralize  upon  the 
meaning  of  the  breaking  of  the  egg  to  let  fly 
the  hidden  bird,  symbol  as  it  is  of  the  opening 
grave  that  the  buried  Christ  might  rise.  They 
have  yet  to  learn  that  even  in  their  pastimes  is 
often  deeper  significance  than  they  had  ever 
thought. 

With  the  rites  of  the  joyous  Christmas 
season  the  village  children  are  more  familiar. 
Their  voices  chorus  jubilantly  the  glad  song 
of  the  angels — "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
on  earth  peace  and  good  will  toward  men." 
The  babe  in  swaddling  clothes,  type  of  their 
own  young  lives,  they  feel  i&  not  a  figure  of 
speech  only,  but  a  blessed  reality.  The  rejoic- 
ing when  the  happy  time  comes,  makes  the 
advent  of  Christmas  welcome  to  all ;  and  merry 
groups  may  be  seen  going  to  and  fro  through 
the  streets,  carrying  the  presents  they  have 
received  from  their  god-parents  and  friends, 
and  proudly  showing  them  as  trophies  won  by 
good  behavior.  The  frosty  morning  or  even 


456728 


38  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

chilling  winter  blasts  do  not  deter  them ;  and 
if  you  go  abroad,  you  see  them  everywhere. 
Most  of  the  children's  gifts  are  received  from 
their  god-parents.  "With  the  Germans  this 
relationship  is  a  near  one;  it  has  more  than 
ordinary  responsibility  in  it.  When  an  infant 
is  baptized,  the  parents  select  two  persons, 
either  from  their  kindred  or  friends.  These 
persons  make  a  solemn  vow  at  the  altar  that 
they  will  perform  the  duties  of  parents  to  the 
child  in  the  event  of  the  death  of  its  natural 
parents.  This  makes  the  tie  a  binding  one, 
and  an  affectionate  interest  is  often  the  result. 
god-parents  usually  participate  in  all  the 
pleasures  of  their  little  charges,  and  Christmas 
is  deemed  a  fitting  time  for  them  to  show  their 
love  and  thoughtful  consideration. 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYEB.  39 


CHAPTEK   IY. 

""When  time,  which  steals  our  years  away, 

Shall  steal  our  pleasures  too, 
The  memory  of  the  past  will  stay 

And  half  our  joys  renew." 

Moore, 

"Oh!  friends  regretted,  scenes  forever  dear, 
Remembrance  hails  you  with  her  warmest  tear; 
Drooping,  she  bends  o'er  pensive  Fancy's  urn, 
To  trace  the  hours  which  never  can  return." 

Byron. 

"Fond  memory,  to  her  duty  true, 
Brings  back  their  faded  forms  to  view; 
How  lifelike,  thro'  the  mist  of  years, 
Each  well-remembered  face  appears." 

Charles  Sprague. 

Parents  in  Germany  are  bound  by  law  to 
send  their  children  to  school  when  they  reach 
the  age  of  six  years.  Twice  a  year  days  are 
appointed  for  their  admission.  These  occur  in 
the  Spring  and  Autumn.  The  law  is  compul- 
sory. No  parent  is  allowed  to  keep  his  child 
at  home  to  the  neglect  of  his  education.  Sick- 
ness of  the  child  itself  is  the  only  possible 
excuse  admitted.  In  this  way,  all  have  an 


40  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

opportunity  to  learn.  The  neglect  of  a  care- 
less, thoughtless,  or  even  wofully  indifferent 
parent  is  not  permitted  to  interfere  with  the 
child's  welfare,  in  this  particular  at  least. 

In  thus  giving  the  priceless  boon  of  know- 
ledge, much  is  placed  within  reach  of  the 
recipient,  that,  in  a  multitude  of  instancess 
would  never  be  hoped  for,  were  not  such  pro- 
vision made.  The  law  is  of  incalculable 
advantage  to  the  youth  of  Germany,  in  furn- 
ishing incentives  to  all  classes.  Uprightness 
of  character  and  a  good  education  in  the 
schools,  form  their  models  of  excellence. 

There  can  be  no  greater  blessing  for  the 
masses  than  liberal  and  enlightened  education. 
It  can  only  elevate  a  community.  Let  schools 
be  in  any  country  what  they  should  be,  and 
prisons  would  be  fewer. 

I  had  often  heard  my  brothers  speak  of 
school.  I  had  waited  with  eager  expectation 
to  be  old  enough  to  accompany  them.  When 
a  very  little  girl  I  loved  to  study.  The  school- 
room was,  in  my  fancy,  a  sort  of  fairy  kingdom, 
where  all  the  pupils  were  dutiful  subjects.  I 
was  six  years  old.  At  last  school  day  had 
come  for  me.  My  dreams  were  to  be  realized 
or  destroyed.  I  longed  for  the  hour  of  starting. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEE.  41 

When  it  was  time  to  go,  my  heart  seemed  to 
quicken  its  beating,  and  my  feet  wanted  to 
run. 

It  was  a  bright  May  day,  and  everything 
appeared  to  look  glad  and  hopeful.  Entering 
school  with  my  brothers  was  the  first  marked 
event  of  my  childlile — the  very  happiest  expe- 
rience. It  promised  to  me,  in  my  youthful 
imagination,  only  pleasure.  The  paths  of 
knowledge,  I  thought,  could  only  be  flowery 
paths.  Of  the  thorns  hidden  among  the  flowers 
I  never  dreamed.  I  did  not  suppose  the  hours 
could  ever  wearily  drag  their  slow  length 
along  in  a  school-room. 

It  is  well  for  us  the  future  is  unknown.  Its 
hidden  disappointments,  discovered  to  us,  would 
make  existence  only  an  endurance.  The  know- 
ledge of  what  tests  we  are  to  pass  through,  the 
trials  we  are  to  endure,  would  paralyze  the 
stoutest  heart.  God  is  wise  in  withholding 
from  us  the  secrets  of  the  years  to  come.  He 
leads  us  on  from  infancy  to  old  age,  lifting  our 
burdens  if  they  are  too  heavy,  or  fitting  us  to 
bear  them. 

My  eldest  and  second  brothers,  Andrew  and 
Charles,  were  in  the  higher  department.  Brother 
Freddie  and  I  entered  the  primary  department, 


42  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

as  we  were  beginners.  He  was  something  older 
than  I,  and  was  farther  advanced.  No  one 
noticed  the  little  shy  stranger  as  she  entered. 
The  children  were  very  noisy.  I  grew  tired 
of  the  confusion  and  wished  myself  home.  So 
vanished  my  dream,  touched  by  the  wand  of 
reality.  My  air-castles  were  fast  tumbling  into 
ruin.  The  fairy  kingdom  was  not  what  I  had 
fancied  it.  But  soon  the  teacher  made  his 
appearance.  In  an  instant  everything  was 
quiet.  He  bade  all  a  hearty  good  morning, 
which  the  scholars  returned  with  equal  enthu- 
siasm. Then  observing  me,  he  came  and  took 
my  hand  caressingly,  and  said  he  hoped  I  would 
be  a  good  girl.  He  promised  to  be  kind  to  me 
if  I  would  be  studious  and  obedient.  I  felt 
some  of  my  castles  still  stood  up,  some  of  my 
dreams  were  coming  true. 

When  I  had  imagined  a  character  for  the 
teacher,!  had  decided  upon  a  personage  invested 
with  much  dignity,  and  of  whom  I  was  to  stand 
in  great  awe.  I  had  made  a  character  from 
my  brothers'  accounts,  but  I  was  wrong  in  all 
my  conclusions.  Mr.  Uffelman  was  short  in 
stature  and  young  in  years.  I  had  imagined 
him  tall,  and  old,  and  very  grave.  Instead  of 
which  he  was  lively  and  playful,  except  during 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEB.  4:3 

school  time.  He  seemed  to  me  almost  like 
myself — a  little  child. 

This  is  a  fortunate  impression  for  a  teacher 
to  make.  Confidence  is  at  once  secured,  and 
the  barrier  thrown  down  separating  the  two 
relationships  from  each  other.  A  child  is  far 
more  easily  taught  if  an  affectionate  interest 
can  be  secured.  If  the  teacher  possess  inherent 
dignity,  rather  than  that  which  the  office 
bestows,  there  is  little  fear  but  what  he  will 
win  his  way  to  a  child's  heart,  and  yet  control 
at  the  same  time  his  wayward  impulses. 

There  can  be  no  healthy  mental  exercise,  if 
dread  of  power  only  induce  the  performance 
of  duty.  There  should  always  be  perfect  free- 
dom of  thought,  if  full  development  is  the 
teacher's  object.  A  judicious  guide  can  check 
without  discouraging  the  opening  intellect, 
and  thus  prune  or  wisely  direct  any  undesirable 
tendencies. 

As  I  recall  my  first  teacher,  he  was  of  pleas- 
ing appearance,  calculated  to  win  a  child's 
admiration.  His  hair  and  eyes  were  dark,  the 
latter  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  them.  Yery 
kindly  eyes  they  were,  as  he  smiled  upon  our 
childish  efforts.  His  brow  was  high,  broad  and 
white,  with  waves  of  his  dark  hair  falling 


44  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

carelessly  over  it.  Though  a  very  little  girl,  I 
greatly  admired  this  teacher,  and  now  I  think 
of  him  as  I  knew  him  then,  one  of  the  best 
and  kindest  friends  I  had. 

School  opened  daily  with  the  singing  of  a 
morning  hymn  by  the  children,  and  the  read- 
ing by  the  teacher  of  a  portion  of  Scripture ; 
after  these  exercises,  a  prayer  was  repeated  in 
concert  by  the  school.  Thus  our  thoughts 
were  directed  to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  and  we 
were  doubtless  more  dutiful  and  obedient  for 
this  early  morning  sacrifice. 

Our  first  lesson  was  in  vocal  music.  A  full 
hour  was  devoted  to  this  study  every  day. 
The  teacher  accompanied  either  with  violin  or 
some  other  instrument.  Much  attention  is 
paid  to  music  in  the  schools.  It  is,  perhaps, 
more  thoroughly  taught  than  any  other  of  the 
branches,  excepting  the  elementary  studies. 
By  this  means  a  very  creditable  knowledge  of 
the  art  is  obtained,  which  is  not  only  a  source 
of  pleasure,  but  becomes  a  source  of  profit  as 
well.  Many  adopt  the  profession,  and  make  a 
comfortable  living,  either  as  musicians, or  teach- 
ers of  the  art.  There  is  probably  a  greater 
number  of  Germans  who  are  music  teachers 
than  any  other  people,  and  this  is  owing,  in  a 


MAKY   A.    NIEMEYEB.  45 

great  measure  to  the  skill  they  acquire  in  the 
schools  provided  by  the  Government. 

After  our  hour's  music  lesson,  a  period  for 
recreation  was  allowed  before  another  study 
was  taken  up.  In  this  way  the  mind  was 
relieved,  and  the  next  task  was  welcomed  with 
zest  and  spirit.  The  day  was  varied  all  through, 
and  at  the  close  of  school  we  felt  almost  as 
fresh  as  when  it  began.  We  experienced  no 
sense  of  weariness  or  disgust  from  having  been 
overworked.  There  had  been  no  effort  to  cram 
our  young  brain  ;  only  enough  had  been  done 
to  stimulate  and  invigorate.  It  is  the  aim  in 
these  German  schools  to  so  regulate  study  and 
rest,  that  the  body  retain  its  due  strength  while 
the  mind  is  being  fed.  Healthy  minds  and 
bodies  with  such  a  system  observed,  may  be 
secured.  There  is  no  gorging  permitted,  even 
though  the  food  be  intellectual.  As  a  result, 
the  student  on  leaving  school  is  matured  men- 
tally and  physically,  and  not  dwarfed  in  either 
respect. 

The  opinion  is  rapidly  gaining  ground  every- 
where, that,  to  be  well  taught,  one  must  not 
necessarily  be  much  taught.  Thoughtful  men 
and  women  are  carefully  studying  the  philan- 
thropy as  well  as  the  philosophy  of  the  school- 


46  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

room,  and  ere  long  noble  examples  of  success, 
without  the  influence  of  the  high  pressure 
system,  will  appear.  A  thoroughly  healthy 
and  judicious  mode  of  teaching  will  be  estab- 
lished, and  the  errors  of  the  past  will  be 
atoned  for. 

When  I  had  been  attending  school  two 
years,  I  was  joined  by  my  younger  sister, 
Maria.  We  accompanied  each  other  with 
glad  hearts,  for  we  were  loving  sisters.  The 
way  seemed  shorter  and  brighter,  and  the 
school-room  more  attractive,  now  that  she  was 
to  share  with  me  its  privileges.  Brother 
Freddie  had  been  promoted  to  the  higher 
department.  I  should  have  missed  him  sadly, 
but  my  little  sister  now  took  his  place,  and  was 
my  companion  at  school. 

I  progressed  in  my  studies  under  the  faithful 
supervision  of  our  teacher,  and  I  shall  ever  feel 
grateful  for  the  knowledge  I  gained  while  with 
him.  Could  I  have  lifted  the  veil  behind  which 
my  future  was  hidden,  and  have  known  what 
was  in  store  for  me,  I  should,  even  as  a  little 
child,  have  applied  myself  more  diligently. 
Not  then  had  the  slightest  indication  of  the 
affliction  I  was  to  bear  made  appearance.  I 
was  a  light-hearted,  merry  girl;  but  eight 


MART   A.   NIEMEYEK.  47 

years  had  passed  over  my  head,  and  no  thought 
of  sorrow  had  come  to  me.  And  yet  there 
was  a  sad  deprivation  to  be  realized  in  a  few 
years. 

As  I  look  back  upon  this  period  of  my  life 
when  I  saw  the  faces  of  those  I  loved,  when  I 
was  permitted  to  look  upon  Nature,  and  take 
its  beauties  in  through  the  outward  vision,  I 
think  of  precious  opportunities  not  fully  appre- 
ciated. Still  I  merited  my  teacher's  approval. 
He  sometimes  told  me  my  penmanship  almost 
equalled  his.  This  made  me  ambitious.  I  was 
proud  that  he  thought  well  of  me,  and  strove 
hard  to  continue  to  merit  his  good  opinion. 


4:8  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


CHAPTEE  Y. 

"Go  forth  into  the  fields; 

Go  forth,  and  know  the  gladness  Nature  yields. 
****** 

Hark!  from  each  fresh-clad  bough, 

Or  blissful  soaring  in  the  air, 
Bright  birds,  with  joyous  music,  bid  you  now 

To  the  Spring's  loved  haunts  repair." 

W.  J.  Pabodie. 

Now  May,  with  life  and  music, 

The  blooming  valley  fills, 
And  rears  her  flowery  arches 

For  all  the  little  rills." 

William  CuUen  Bryant. 

Just  after  my  sister  started  to  school,  a 
general  pic-nic  was  held.  The  schools  of  five 
different  villages  participated.  All  were  to 
assemble  at  the  appointed  place,  a  beautiful 
grove,  about  equally  distant  from  each  village. 
The  hour  of  starting  was  to  be  selected  by  each 
school  for  itself,  only  all  were  to  be  together 
for  dinner. 

The  grove  was  a  lovely  spot,  beautifully 
shaded  with  high,  over-arching  trees.  A  lim- 
pid stream  rippled  out  from  a  rock  jutting 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  49 

suddenly  up  from  the  ground,  forming  a  natural 
fountain.  Then  the  bright  water  emptied 
into  a  rivulet,  which  went  singing  its 
vray  along,  following  in  its  course  the  gently 
sloping  ground,  and,  at  a  little  distance  off 
quietly  settled  itself  into  a  crystal  lake. 

The  birds  sang  in  the  tree-tops,  or  flitted 
^ut  among  the  boughs  and  branches.     The 
grass  was  soft  and  velvety  to  the  tread.     Wild 
flowers  were  scattered  everywhere,  ready  to 
themselves  timidly  away  as  the  voices  of 
Idren  rang  out  on  the  air;  fearing  lest  they 
should  be  ruthlessly  trampled  upon,  or  snatched 
from  the  embrace  of  the  long  meadow  grass 
to  deck  the  hat  of  some  fair  village  beauty. 

The  morning  was  clear ;  the  sky  so  cloudless, 
promised  a  whole  day  of  pleasure.     King  Sol 
had  stepped  forth  from  his  chambers  in  the 
East  m  the  best  possible  humor,  and  not  even 
a  fleecy  spot  was  in   all  the  heavens.     The 
nldren  saw  this,  and  their  hearts  bounded 
ith   joy.      Their   light    footsteps  were    the 
echoes  of  their  excessive  happiness. 
^  According  to  the  plan  that  had  been  arranged 
them,  the  different  schools  started  on  their 
journey  to  the  woods.     Every  child  was  full 
expectation  of  promised  pleasure.     Bright 
0 


50  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

faces  shone  again,  and  ringing  peals  of  laughter 
made  the  forests  jubilant  as  the  merry  groups 
passed  through  them. 

The  scholars  were  to  be  in  charge  of  the 
teachers,  who  were  expected  to  conduct  them 
safely  to  the  pic-nic  grounds.  We  started  at 
the  appointed  hour,  walked  a  long  time,  and 
yet  did  not  seem  to  get  any  nearer  our  des- 
tination ;  as  far  as  we  could  see,  forests  only 
were  visible.  We  had  expected  to  meet  some 
of  the  other  schools ;  but  instead  of  doing  so, 
we  found  ourselves  close  by  the  ruins  of  a 
city,  without  having  seen  the  path  leading 
to  the  grove  we  were  seeking.  We  were  lost ! 
We  were  not  alarrried,  for  we  at  least  knew  the 
way  we  had  come,  and  could  retrace  our  steps. 
We  were  all  in  excellent  spirits,  and  were 
much  amused  at  our  mistake.  Our  teacher 
was  a  stranger,  and  had  taken  the  wrong  road. 
We  were  merry  over  the  idea  of  probably 
having  our  pic-nic  to  ourselves. 

Mr.  Uffelman  suggested  we  should  eat  our 
dinners.  While  doing  so,  he  gave  us  an  inter- 
esting account  of  ruins  he  had  visited  elsewhere. 
He  pointed  out  any  similarity  between  those 
and  the  ones  we  had  so  unexpectedly  discovered. 
He  narrated  some  stories  of  ancient  ruined 


MARY    A.   KIEMEYEB.  51 

castles.  Some  of  these  were  rather  ghostly, 
but  they  were  told  in  broad  daylight,  and  we 
did  not  fear  vexed  spirits.  We  felt  like  search- 
ing among  the  few  remaining  shattered  walls 
by  which  we  were  surrounded,  to  see  if  we 
could  find  any  trace  of  the  supernatural.  But 
we  contented  ourselves  with  listening  to  the 
stories,  and  the  moral  which  our  teacher  drew 
from  each. 

We  enjoyed  our  dinner  exceedingly.  After 
it  was  over,  we  strolled  on  till  we  were  beyond 
the  ruins.  We  had  begun  to  think  we  should 
entirely  fail  to  find  the  other  schools,  and  were 
wondering  what  would  be  thought  of  our  not 
coming,  when  lo !  we  were  in  their  very  midst. 

Our  surprise  was  great,  for  we  did  not  know 
we  were  near  them.  Everybody  was  glad  to 
see  us.  We  were  asked  innumerable  questions, 
why  we  were  so  late  arriving ;  where  we  had 
been  ;  and  if  we  had  had  our  dinners.  To  all 
of  which  we  gave  satisfactory  answers.  It 
amused  our  friends  very  much  that  we  should 
have  lost  our  way.  They  laughed  heartily  at 
our  mishap.  Our  greeting  was  all  the  more 
cordial  as  it  had  been  so  long  deferred,  and  we 
entered  with  keen  relish  into  all  the  sports  of 
the  occasion. 


52  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Never  had  I  seen  such  a  multitude  of  child- 
ren. The  number  appeared  too  great  to  be 
counted.  This  impression  was,  of  course,  partly 
attributable  to  my  inexperience.  There  were 
probably  two  thousand,  as  each  school  approx- 
imated four  hundred  scholars,  and  sometimes 
exceeded  that  number.  We  spent  the  remain- 
der of  the  day  rambling  through  the  woods, 
swinging,  jumping  the  rope,  playing  singing 
plays,  dancing,  and  in  every  possible  way  in 
which  children  could  be  arrmsed. 

The  time  passed  rapidly,  and  the  day  seem- 
ed short  to  us  when  the  hour  for  our  return 
arrived.  We  were  called  together,  and  a  hymn 
was  sung.  The  grove  was  filled  with  music,  as 
the  voices  of  two  thousand  happy  children 
swelled  forth  in  song.  The  birds  were  silent, 
and  even  the  leaves  and  the  little  rivulet  seemed 
to  pause,  that  they  might  listen.  Good-byes 
were  exchanged,  and  each  teacher,  with  his 
band  of  scholars,  turned  their  steps  towards 
home.  The  whole  day  was  what  the  morning 
had  promised,  replete  with  pleasure. 

With  what  delight  in  after  life  are  recalled 
such  pastimes  as  these.  They  often  become 
the  only  bright  tints  in  a  heavily  shaded  life- 
picture.  When  all  freshness  of  feeling  has 


MAKY    A.    KIEMEYER.  53 

passed,  and  the  heart  is  bowed  in  grief,  how 
often  have  we  seen  the  aged  face  relumed  with 
joy  at  the  remembrance  of  a  butterfly  chase, 
or  some  equally  evanescent  and  swiftly  vanish- 
ing joy- 
When  intervening  years  have  been  steeped 
in  oblivion  too  dense  for  aught  to  penetrate  it, 
the  sports  of  childhood  often  come  back,  bring- 
ing with  them  a  thrill  of  pleasure  naught  else 
can  give.     Why  this  is  so,  we  may  not  clearly 
discern.      Perhaps    because    they    were    first 
impressions,  they  took  deeper  hold  upon  the 
fancy.     Or  as  the  world,  with  its  busy  cares, 
had  not   then  divided  the   heart's  affections, 
these  loves  of  childhood  may  have  been  moro 
precious  to  gentle  memory,  and  she  hid  them 
away  for    the    retrospection    of   later   years. 
Whatever  may  be  the  reason,  we  are  every  day 
reminded   how  very  dear,  even  when   feeble 
steps  are  tottering  on  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
are  the  reminiscences  of  earliest  years. 

From  my  infancy  I  have  been  passionately 
fond  of  music.  When  I  was  about  seven  years 
of  age,  a  musical  entertainment  was  to  be  given 
by  the  people  of  u  neighboring  town,  an  hour's 
walk  distant.  I  had  heard  much  talk  concern- 
ing the  intended  jubilee,  and  everything  I 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


heard  interested  me  greatly.  I  became  very 
anxious  to  attend.  I  could  think  of  nothing 
else  for  days  before,  and  when  the  time  arrived, 
I  was  in  a  feverish  state  of  excitement.  "Whit 
Monday  had  been  appointed  for  the  entertain- 
ment. Many  people  were  going  from  our 
village.  At  the  hour  for  starting,  I  left  the 
house  .without  my  parents'  knowledge,  and 
followed  a  party  bound  for  the  file.  Soon 
after  reaching  the  grounds,  I  lost  sight  of  the 
familiar  faces  of  persons  from  my  home,  and 
found  myself  surrounded  by  strangers.  I  did 
not  feel  afraid,  so  intent  was  I  upon  the  full 
enjoyment  of  the  music. 

The  entertainment  took  place  in  a  park  just 
beneath  a  gracefully  sloping  hill.  It  was  well 
shaded,  and  beautifully  laid  out  in  flower  beds 
and  gravelled  walks.  It  also  contained  several 
pavilions,  in  which  were  tables  filled  with  a 
variety  of  refreshment.  I  soon  found  a  group 
of  children  playing  by  a  pretty  brook.  They 
were  pulling  bulrushes  and  plaiting  them ;  then 
making  little  fancy  wreaths  and  baskets,  and 
enjoying  themselves  finely.  I,  of  course,  was 
attracted.  Children  soon  become  acquainted. 
In  a  little  while  I  was  perfectly  at  home  with 
my  new-found  friends,  and  we  had  a  joyous 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  55 

time.  Dinner  was  announced  by  the  sounding 
of  a  silver  horn.  The  parents  of  my  playmates 
invited  me  to  dine  with  them.  I  must  have 
seemed  very  lonely,  but  I  did  not  feel  so.  I 
spent  the  day  delightfully,  without  a  thought 
of  my  home,  or  the  distance  I  was  from  it. 

About  sunset  I  began  to  think  of  my  long 
walk  back.  I  could  not  find  the  persons  I  had 
come  with.  I  became  alarmed.  I  wondered 
what  my  father  and  mother  would  say  to  me  ; 
what  I  should  tell  them,  and  if  they  would 
punish  me.  These  were  not  very  agreeable 
reflections  after  a  day  of  pleasure.  But  I  had 
left  without  the  knowledge  or  consent  of  my 
parents,  and  was  now  dreading  the  deserved 
penalty  of  disobedience.  I  had  been  well 
trained,  and  thought  of  no  way  of  escape  but 
to  tell  the  truth,  and  ask  to  be  forgiven.  I 
had  done  wrong  I  knew,  and  believed  I  should 
receive  the  merited  consequences  of  my  fault. 
My  walk  home  was  very  lonely  It  was  grow- 
ing towards  night,  and  I  recalled  all  the  ghost 
stories  I  had  ever  heard.  Every  sound  made 
me  quicken  my  steps.  I  fancied  strange  sights 
all  along  the  road,  and  ran  as  fast  as  I  could, 
till  I  had  to  slacken  my  pace  to  rest;  then 
would  run  again,  almost  breathless  with  fright. 


5G  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

At  last  I  reached  home,  without  having  been 
devoured  by  goblins  or  wicked  elves  of  any 
hind.  Father  and  mother  were  much  surprised 
when  I  told  them  my  day's  adventures.  They 
were  astonished  to  learn  I  had  come  back 
alone,  and  were  glad  no  mischance  had  over- 
taken their  erring  child.  They  supposed  I  had 
gone  to  spend  the  day  with  one  of  my  school- 
mates, and  would  be  brought  home  by  some 
older  member  of  the  family.  They  cautioned 
me  against  going  such  a  distance  again  without 
gaining  their  permission.  They  chid  me  very 
gently,  and  did  not  punish  me  severely,  as  I  had 
expected  they  would.  It  was  my  first  offence, 
so  they  forgave  me.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
grateful  I  felt  to  be  allowed  to  give  and  receive 
the  usual  good-night  kiss. 

My  stolen  pleasures  wero  sweet  while  being 
enjoyed,  but  brought  after  regret.  Had  not 
my  kind  parents  forgiven  me,  I  should  have 
been  a  miserable  little  girl  when  I  laid  my  head 
on  my  pillow.  As  it  was,  with  an  unburdened 
heart  and  a  weary  body,  I  was  soon  sound  asleep, 
snugly  stowed  away  in  my  comfortable  bed, 
to  dream,  perhaps,  of  my  wanderings,  the  lonely 
forest  walk,  my  dread  of  a  reprimand,  but  to 
linger  last  and  longest  on  the  sweet  seal  of 
pardon — the  good-night  kiss  of  my  parents. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  57 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  All  places  that  the  eye  of  heaven  visits, 
Are  to  a  wise  man  ports  and  happy  havens." 

Shttks.  Richard  II. 

"Mother,  how  still  the  baby  lies! 

I  cannot  hear  his  breath ; 
I  cannot  see  his  laughing  eyes — 
They  tell  me  this  is  death." 

Mr*.  Oilman. 

"There  is  a  voice  I  shall  hear  no  more; 
There  are  tones  whose  music  for  me  is  o'er, 
Sweet  as  the  odors  of  Spring  were  they — 
Precious  and  rich,  but  they  died  away; 
They  came  like  peace  to  my  heart  and  ear, 
Ne'er  again  will  they  murmur  here; 
They  have  gone  like  the  blush  of  a  summer  moon, 
Like  a  crimson  cloud  through  the  sunset  borne." 

W.  G.  Clarke. 

At  this  time  my  father  was  constantly  receiv- 
ing letters  from  his  brother,  who  had  settled  in 
America,  urging  him  to  dispose  of  his  property 
and  emigrate  with  his  family.  My  parents 
could  not  make  up  their  minds  to  leave  their 
native  land.  But  my  uncle  continued  to  write, 
earnestly  advising  them  to  do  BO.  Finally, 


58  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

after  long  reflection,  my  father  and  mother 
thought  that  as  they  had  a  large  family,  the 
new  world  might  possess  advantages  for  their 
children  which  their  own  country  did  not.  So 
after  much  consideration,  and  with  some  mis- 
givings, they  concluded  at  the  expiration  of 
four  months  to  leave  for  America.  It  was 
quite  a  serious  undertaking,  but  it  appeared 
providential  for  them  to  go.  We  began  making 
the  necessary  preparations  for  our  departure. 
All  was  bustle  in  our  home.  Mother's  face 
was  anxious,  but  she  would  not  allow  herself 
to  regret  the  step  she  had  decided  to  take.  If 
her  children's  good  was  to  be  secured,  she  was 
willing  to  make  any  sacrifice.  She  believed  it 
was  for  the  best,  and  all  other  considerations 
were  nobly  set  aside.  Such  is  a  mother's  love. 
She  knows  no  aim  but  the  welfare  of  her  family. 
All  were  busy,  getting  ready  to  cross  the 
briny  deep.  Even  the  children  were  doing 
what  they  could,  when,  as  though  to  remind  us 
how  vain  are  all  our  plans  if  God  should  see 
fit  to  interpose  and  stay  them,  our  darling  little 
brother  Louis  sickened  and  died.  This  was  a 
sad  blow.  Mother  feared  it  might  be' ominous 
that  our  going  to  America  was  not  a  wise 
decision.  He  was  but  four  years  old,  our 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  59 

household  pet,  his  winning  ways  our  constant 
pleasure.  Yet  God  took  the  blossom  from  us 
to  bloom  where  no  blight  could  destroy  its 
beauty;  and  the  little  one  laid  in  his  grave 
across  the  ocean,  often  when  we  were  settled  in 
our  new  home,  made  us  wander  back  to  the 
land  we  had  left.  A  tie  was  formed  that  no 
change  of  scene  or  circumstance  could  break. 
We  love  the  spot  with  green  turf  above  it, 
where  sleep  those  we  tenderly  cherish.  And 
in  waking  dreams,  or  when  slumber's  soft 
mantle  has  enfolded  the  senses,  we  often  linger 
there. 

I  was  greatly  delighted  at  the  idea  of  going 
to  America.  It  was  to  me  a  wonderful  place. 
I  had  heard  so  much  about  it,  that  I  thought  it 
must  surely  be  a  better  world  than  I  had  lived 
in,  its  fruits  more  luscious,  its  flowers  more 
lovely,  and  its  people  more  famous.  Like 
stories  told  me  of  Aladdin's  lamp  and  its  magical 
power,  were  the  accounts  of  this  new  land. 
Very  marvellous  were  my  childish  imagina- 
tions. I  could  scarcely  study  my  lessons  after 
it  had  been  determined  we  were  to  go.  My 
thoughts  were  almost  exclusively  upon  the 
prospects  before  us.  My  teacher  would  pat 
me  on  the  cheek  and  say  laughingly,  "  Oh, 


60  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

you  think  too  much  about  America ;  you  will 
not  find  it  so  very  wonderful." 

A  few  days  before  taking  leave  of  our  friends, 
sister  and  myself  met  Mr.  Uffelman.  He  asked 
us  "  if  we  were  in  a  hurry  to  g3t  home."  We 
told  him  "  no."  He  desired  us  to  return  with 
him  to  his  home.  We  accompanied  him,  and 
found  he  had  prepared  a  nice  little  parting 
treat  for  us.  We  were  both  surprised  and 
pleased  at  his  thoughtfulness.  He  told  us  he 
was  on  his  way  to  our  home  when  he  met  us. 
We  had  left  school  a  short  time  before,  and  so 
had  not  seen  him  daily,  as  we  had  been  accus- 
tomed to.  Sister  and  I  were  delighted  with 
this  pleasant  surprise,  and  were  not  likely  ever 
to  forget  it. 

It  takes  only  a  little  thing  to  gratify  children. 
They  magnify  all  kindnesses,  and  in  their 
generosity  arc  sure  to  make  large  returns  of 
love  and  confidence.  No  matter  how  desolate 
or  lonely  we  may  be,  we  may  always  win  the 
affection  of  a  child;  and  it  is  very  pure, 
worthier  to  have  and  hold  than  that  of  persons 
older  grown,  if  with  the  latter  self  interest  add  a 
feather  weight  in  the  scale. 

Our  teacher  talked  with  us  of  our  intended 
journey.  He  told  us  in  the  country  to  which 


MARY   A.   NIEMEYER.  61 

we  were  going  people  were  not  always  as  strict 
in  their  notions  of  duty  as  they  should  be.     In 
their  haste  to  become  rich,  parents  frequently 
were  regardless  of  their  children's  interests, 
and  removed   them  when   very  young  from 
school  to  aid  in  making  money.     The  children 
were  glad  to  get  rid  of  study,  and  were  very 
willing  to  give  up  school.     In  this  way  they 
began  to  be  men  and  women  in  their  notions, 
while  they  still  were  children  in  years.     This, 
he  thought,  was  in  a  measure  owing  to  the  fact 
that  many  persons  had  emigrated  to  America 
with  the  sole  object  of  accumulating  wealth. 
The  country  was  young;  its  agriculture,  mineral 
and  mechanical  resources  were  abundant.     It 
was,  indeed,  in  the  opinion  of  some  a  land  of 
gold,  and  their  purpose  in  seeking  it  was  to 
become  possessed  of  a  goodly  share  of  the 
precious  commodity.    His  theory  may  not  have 
been  a  correct  one  in  every  respect;  it  may 
have  been  in  a  degree  exaggerated ;  yet  I  have 
since  found  it  was  not  wholly  without  founda- 
tion.    There  is  an  eagerness  for  mere  worldly 
gain  that  does  interfere  with  higher  and  less 
perishable   attainments.     But  the  country  is 
growing  older;  and  with  plenty  in  her  right 
hand,  she  still  may  take  hold  of  wisdom's 


62  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

sceptre,  and  while  not  neglecting  opportunities 
to  possess  wealth,  yet  not  make  it  the  one  aim 
of  a  lite. 

Mr.  Uffelman  counselled  us  to  continue  at 
school  as  long  as  our  parents  could  possibly 
permit  us.  He  hoped  we  would  remain  at 
least  till  we  were  confirmed.  By  that  time  we 
should  have  acquired  a  fair  education,  and  be 
ready  creditably  to  do  our  part  in  the  world. 
He  then  bade  us  good-bye,  and  we  parted  from 
our  friend  and  teacher,  never  again  to  meet  on 
earth. 

The  day  came  on  which  we  were  to  quit  the 
home  of  our  first  years.  We  were  to  leave 
forever  behind  us  the  land  of  our  birth.  We 
should  never  tread  its  soil  again.  We  children 
were  very  young,  but  the  subdued  grief  of  our 
parents  impressed  us,  and  we  understood  it  was 
no  ordinary  change  we  were  making.  It  is 
true  our  parting  was  not  altogether  sorrowful, 
for  we  were  very  hopeful  as  to  what  our  new 
home  would  prove  to  be.  Our  anticipations 
were  bright,  and  our  regrets  were  principally 
that  we  were  leaving  friends  and  neighbors,  to 
whom  we  were  fondly  attached.  Our  p'laymates 
were  sad  at  the  thought  of  our  going  so  far 
away.  Many  of  them  with  tearful  eyes  pre- 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER  63 

sen  ted  mementos  of  their  affection.  These 
little  gifts,  love-tokens  as  they  surely  were,  were 
dearly  prized.  The  last  good-byes  were  spoken. 
"We  looked  back  upon  our  pleasant  home,  then 
turned  from  it  forever,  followed  by  the  "  God 
speed"  of  the  dear  ones  who  had  remained 
longest  with  us. 

My  mother's  parting  request,  as  she  bade 
her  sister  farewell,  was  in  memory  of  the  little 
one  she  had  so  recently  put  away,  asleep  in  his 
new-made  grave.  She  begged  that  flowers 
might  be  kept  blooming  above  the  cherished 
form — violet,  and  hyacinth,  and  sweet-scented 
rose, — and  mingling  with  them  the  mourning 
cypress,  emblems  of  his  youth  and  loveliness, 
and  her  sorrowing  heart.  She  felt  that  although 
his  body  was  in  the  grave,  yet  the  spirit  had 
winged  its  flight  to  realms  of  endless  life.  The 
fleshy  tabernacle  would  become  food  for  worms, 
but  he  was  where  "  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth 
corrupt."  He  was  beyond  the  skies,  himself 
a  cherub  among  the  angels  and  bright-winged 
seraphs.  His  voice,  never  again  to  be  broken 
into  infant  wailing,  would  forever  burst  forth 
into  song,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Lord,"  the  burden 
of  the  melody. 

Lips  that  had  just  learned  to  lisp  "  mother," 


64  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

here  on  earth,  would,  in  heaven,  welcome  that 
mother  with  a  glad  "All  hail,"  when  she, 
having  done  with  earth's  toils,  should  again 
fold  her  darling  in  her  fond  embrace. 

"No  bitter  tears  be  shed, 

Blossom  of  being,  seen  and  gone; 
"With  flowers  alone  we  strew  thy  bed, 

O  blest  departed  one ! 
Whose  all  of  life — a  rosy  ray, 
Blush'd  into  dawn,  and  passed  away. 

Yes,  thou  art  fled,  ere  guilt  had  power 
To  stain  thy  cherub-soul  and  form, 

Closed  is  the  soft  ephemeral  flower, 
That  never  felt  a  storm  1 

The  sunbeam's  smile,  the  zephyr's  breath, 

All  that  it  knew  from  life  to  death. 

Thou  wert  so  like  a  form  of  light, 
That  heaven  benignly  called  thee  hence, 

Ere  yet  the  world  could  breathe  one  blight 
O'er  thy  sweet  innocence. 

And  thou,  that  brighter  home  to  bless, 

Art  passed,  with  all  thy  loveliness! 

Oh!  hadst  thou  still  on  earth  remained, 

Vision  of  beauty,  fair  as  brief; 
How  soon  thy  brightness  had  been  stain'd 

With  passion  or  with  grief! 
Now  not  a  sullying  breath  can  rise, 
To  dim  thy  glory  in  the  skies. 

We  rear  no  marble  o'er  thy  tomb, 
No  sculptur'd  image  there  shall  mourn; 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  65 

All!  fitter  far  the  vernal  bloom 

Such  dwelling  to  adorn. 
Fragrance,  and  flowers,  and  dews  must  be 
The  only  emblems  meet  for  thee. 

Thy  grave  shall  be  a  blessed  shrine, 

Adorn' d  with  Nature's  brightest  wreath, 

Each  glowing  season  shall  combine 
Its  incense  there  to  breathe; 

And  oft  upon  the  midnight  air 

Shall  viewless  harps  be  murmuring  there. 

And  oh !  sometimes  in  visions  blest, 

Sweet  spirit  visit  our  repose, 
And  bear  from  thine  own  world  of  rest 

Some  balm  for  human  woes. 
What  form  more  lovely  could  be  given, 
Than  thine,  to  be  messenger  of  heaven?" 

To  us  as  children,  our  leaving  Germany  did 
not  seem  to  have  any  special  significance.  We 
soon  forgot,  in  the  excitement  of  travel,  our 
sorrow,  and  were  ready  to  enjoy  everything. 
We  had  no  forebodings,  no  anxieties.  We  were 
going  in  a  few  days  to  take  up  our  abode,  for  some 
weeks  at  least,  in  a  big  ship, — as  big  as  a  house. 
We  thought  this  very  novel,  and  were  full  of 
wonderment  as  to  how  everything  would  be. 
Our  speculations,  could  they  have  been  set 
down,  would  have  been  most  amusing.  Our 
buoyant  expectations  cheered  our  parents,  and 
6 


66  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

they  endeavored  to  consider  without  regret  the 
step  they  had  taken.  Their  trust  was  in  God, 
who  is  always  strong  to  deliver,  even  if  erring 
human  judgment  prove  unwise. 

There  is  a  pow'r  our  path  to  guide, 

E'en  though  a  thorny  way; 
Our  God  is  just,  whate'er  betide, 

He  can  all  evil  stay. 

We  must  trust  His  pow'r  divine, 
Lean  on  His  strong  right  arm; 

He'll  make  His  light  to  shine, 
And  lead  us  from  all  harm. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  67 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"Let  us  depart!  the  universal  sun 
Confines  not  to  one  land  his  blessed  beams." 

Southey'g  Madoc. 

"  Come,  fair  repentance,  daughter  of  the  skies, 
Soft  harbinger  of  soon  returning  virtue ; 
The  weeping  messenger  of  grace  from  heav'n ! " 

Brown's  At/ielstan. 

"Fare  thee  well!  the  ship  is  ready, 
And  the  breeze  is  fresh  and  steady; 
Hands  are  fast  the  anchor  weighing, 
High  in  air  the  streamers  playing. 
Spread  the  sails,  the  waves  are  swelling 
Proudly  round  thy  buoyant  dwelling. 
Fare  thee  well,  and  when  at  sea, 
Think  of  those  who  sigh  for  thee ! " 

Hannah  F.  Gould. 

Two  days'  delightful  travel  brought  us  to 
Bremen.  It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  we 
arrived.  After  partaking  of  a  refreshing  supper, 
we  retired.  Next  morning  father  took  us  out 
for  a  walk.  We  were  anxious  to  see  the  place. 
We  found  it  a  city  of  considerable  commer- 
cial importance,  situated  on  the  river  Weser; 
famous  for  its  wine  cellars.  These  are  divided 


68  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

into  compartments :  in  one  of  which  are  the 
wine  casks  called  "  The  Rose,"  and  "  The 
Twelve  Apostles."  These  names  are  tradi- 
tional, and  are  appropriately  significant.  Much 
store  is  set  upon  their  possession. 

The  Cathedral  is  a  Gothic  building  of  the 
twelfth  century.  It  is  well  preserved,  and  is 
unique  and  suggestive  in  structure.  It  bears 
marks  of  its  great  age  in  the  various  growth 
that  has  clung  to  its  time-honored  walls,  and 
which  has  in  places  turned  to  fossil,  and  become 
a  part  of  the  stone.  Quaint  devices  have  in 
this  way  been  traced  on  wall,  and  frieze  and 
cornice.  The  antiquated  pile  is  eloquent, 
though  voiceless  in  its  grandeur,  "  speaking  of 
the  past  unto  the  present."  It  has  a  language 
of  its  own  unwritten  and  unspoken,  but  hold- 
ing communion  with  the  heart  of  man. 

The  vault  of  the  church  has  the  property  of 
preserving  the  bodies  of  the  dead  from  decom- 
position. This  is  curious,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
true.  The  idea  may  have  been  taken  from  the 
ancient  Egyptian  method  of  embalming  the 
dead,  and  then  placing  them  in  an  atmosphere 
where  they  remain  in  the  same  condition  for 


"Wt  found  many  other  interesting  things  in 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  69 

Bremen ;  none,  however,  more  so  than  the 
wine  cellars  and  the  cathedral,  and  none  that 
were  remarkable  enough  for  us  to  spend 
much  time  in  visiting.  We  were  pleased 
with  all  we  saw — although  our  stay  was 
brief. 

The  greater  number  of  Germans  emigrating 
to  America,  embark  at  this  point.  Vessels  of 
large  size  stop  at  Bremen  haven,  near  the 
rnouth  of  the  river  Weser.  Two  fine  bridges 
connect  the  banks  of  this  river.  These  add  to 
the  business  facilities  of  the  city,  and  are  sources 
of  wealth  to  the  people. 

On  our  return  from   our  walk  and  sight- 

O 

seeing,  we  took  dinner.  There  was  a  large 
number  of  guests  at  the  hotel ;  and  after  dinner 
they  were  scattered  through  the  house,  appar- 
ently enjoying  themselves  very  much,  all  accord- 
ing to  their  several  fancies.  Some  were  chatting, 
others  reading,  and  groups  were  engaged  in 
various  parlor  games.  I  was  feeling  rather 
lonely,  as  I  had  become  accidentally  separated 
from  my  family.  While  sitting,  watching  what 
was  going  on  around  me,  a  strange  lady  came 
and  took  a  seat  by  my  side.  She  asked  me 
some  questions :  who  I  was,  where  I  was  from, 
and  if  I  was  going  to  remain  long  in  Bremen. 


70  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

To  this  last  inquiry  I  answered,  "  I  did  not 
know,  as  I  had  not  heard  my  parents  say." 
She  seemed  interested  in  me,  and  I  was  pleased 
with  the  attention  she  paid  me.  She  desired 
me  to  ask  my  mother  it'  I  might  accompany 
her  home  for  a  short  visit.  I  left  her  to  find 
mother.  When  at  her  door,  I  thought  she 
surely  would  not  let  me  go,  as  the  lady  was  an 
entire  stranger.  I  had  taken  a  great  liking 
to  my  new  friend,  and  wished  exceedingly  to 
go  with  her.  I  concluded  it  would  not  be  very 
wrong  to  go  without  my  mother's  permission, 
as  I  should  be  gone  only  a  little  while.  I 
decided  to  return  and  say  I  had  my  mother's 
consent  to  do  as  she  wished  me.  I  was  tempted 
to  deceive,  and  yielded.  I  thought  my  parents 
would  not  care.  I  forgot  for  the  moment  the 
oft  repeated  counsel  I  had  received ;  never  to 
tell  an  untruth,  that  harm  would  surely  follow. 
I  acted  according  to  the  impulses  of  my 
sinful,  selfish  heart.  I  told  the  lady  I  could 
go,  and  went  with  her  to  her  home.  She  was 
kind  and  loving  to  me ;  she  petted  and  caressed 
me  in  the  fondest  manner,  and  I  was  com- 
pletely captivated.  I  remained  all  night  with 
my  new  acquaintance.  I  was  so  pleased,  I 
forgot  my  disobedience,  and  thought  only  of 


MAEY   A.    NIEMEYEE.  71 

present  happiness.  Next  day  we  went  visiting, 
and  had  a  pleasant  time ;  then  we  returned  to 
the  hotel.  What  was  my  surprise,  to  find  my 
parents,  brothers  and  sisters  had  gone.  I 
became  greatly  alarmed.  My  friend  took  me 
to  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel.  My  dismay  can 
hardly  be  imagined,  when  he  told  me  all  my 
family  had  left  that  morning  on  their  voyage 
to  America.  The  ship  was  starting  in  which 
they  were  to  sail,  and  they  were  compelled  to 
go.  He  thought  my  father  had  found  me,  as 
he  had  not  seen  him  for  some  hours.  I  burst 
into  tears.  I  thought  my  heart  would  break. 
I  was  utterly  miserable.  Everybody  tried  to 
comfort  me,  but  I  was  inconsolable.  I  was  a 
hopeless  desolate  child.  I  had  been  very  wicked, 
and  this  was  my  punishment.  It  seemed  greater 
than  I  could  bear.  I  remembered  my  folly 
in  deep  contrition,  and  was  truly  penitent,  but 
this  did  not  restore  me  to  my  parents ;  and  my 
sorrow  was  unabated. 

Mrs.  Kiester  did  everything  she  could  to 
allay  my  grief,  but  all  her  efforts  failed,  till  she 
happened  to  say  she  expected  to  go  to  America 
in  a  short  time,  and  she  would  take  me  with 
her,  and  we  would  try  our  utmost  to  find  my 
parents.  I  returned  with  her  to  her  home  a 


72  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

sadder  and  wiser  child.  I  was  not  likely  ever 
again  to  deceive. 

Two  days  passed ;  I  heard  nothing  of  my 
parents.  On  the  evening  of  the  second  day, 
sick  and  weary,  I  retired  early,  to  ponder  on 
my  forlorn  situation — a  deserted  child,  among 
entire  strangers.  When  just  as  I  laid  down,  I 
heard  a  familiar  voice  in  the  hall ;  it  was  my 
father's.  I  leaped  out  of  bed,  ready  to  dance 
for  joy,  and  in  an  instant  was  folded  in  his 
arms.  I  was  at  first  afraid  he  would  be  dis- 
pleased with  me,  and  would  chide  me  severely 
for  the  trouble  and  anxiety  I  had  caused  him ; 
but  Mrs.  Kiester  interceded  for  me,  explained 
everything,  and  shared  the  blame.  She  had 
asked  me  to  go  with  her,  not  knowing  the 
family  were  to  leave  Bremen  so  soon.  Yery 
earnest  were  her  eiforts  to  reconcile  my  father 
to  my  misconduct,  in  having  gone  away  with- 
out his  or  my  mother's  consent.  Her  excuse 
was,  I  was  too  young  to  reflect  how  wrong  it 
was  to  do  so ;  she  felt  sure  I  would  never  repeat 
the  offence.  Father  listened  to  her  pleading 
in  my  behalf,  and  kindly  forgave  me. 

He  told  us  how  alarmed  he  was  when,  just 
as  he  was  starting,  I  could  nowhere  be  found. 
He  thought  I  must  have  strayed  away  and  lost 


MARY   A.   NIEMEYER.  73 

myself.  lie  had  purchased  tickets  for  the  fam- 
ily on  the  first  ship  out.  This  was  to  leave  the 
day  after  I  left  the  hotel  with  my  stranger 
friend.  He  took  the  family  to  the  point  from 
which  the  ship  was  to  start,  then  returned  to  seek 
his  missing  child.  He  could  learn  nothing  of 
my  whereabouts.  I  had  not  told  any  one  where 
I  was  going ;  this  rendered  search  for  me  fruit- 
less. I  resolved  never  again  to  distress  my 
parents  by  being  disobedient  and  untruthful. 
The  circumstance  made  a  lasting  impression 
upon  me.  Ever  after,  if  I  felt  like  equivocating 
in  the  slightest,  I  recalled  with  a  shudder,  the 
agony  I  endured,  and  the  remembrance  pre- 
vented my  sinning  again  in  the  same  way.  If 
a  child  should  read  my  simple  story,  I  would 
urge  that,  under  all  temptation,  the  truth  be 
told.  Yery  few  possibly,  will  pass  through  the 
ordeal  I  did,  but  falsehood  will  always  bring 
its  own  bitter  penalty. 

Father  and  I  left  for  Bremen  port  next  day. 
My  mother  met  me,  as  soon  as  we  reached  the 
place  where  she  had  been  waiting  for  me. 
"Words  cannot  express  her  delight  when  she 
saw  her  little  daughter  Mary.  She  threw  her 
arms  around  me  and  wept  for  joy.  She  had 
dreaded  having  to  leave  the  country  without 
7 


74  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

finding  me.  Father  intended  to  stay  and  search 
for  me,  and  have  mother  and  the  other  children 
go  without  him.  He  and  I  would  follow  as 
soon  as  he  had  found  me.  My  mother's  anguish 
had  been  intense.  She  felt  she  would  rather 
have  laid  me  beside  my  little  brother  Louis, 
than  perhaps  never  to  know  what  had  become 
of  me.  We  told  mother  all  about  Mrs.  Kiester, 
how  she  had  fascinated  me,  and  how  frightened 
I  had  been  when  I  could  not  find  my  parents. 
Mother  laughed  and  cried  during  the  narrative, 
and  when  it  was  ended  she  mildly  reproved 
my  thoughtlessness.  She  told  me  she  was 
deeply  grieved  that  I  had  told  a  falsehood ;  but 
she  forgave  me,  and  we  were  once  more  a  united 
family ;  the  one  stray  lamb  had  been  brought 
back  into  the  fold. 

The  vessel  in  which  we  were  to  sail  had 
already  moved  out  a  short  distance  from  the 
shore,  so  father  had  to  procure  a  small  boat  in 
which  we  might  be  conveyed  to  it. 

Just  as  we  were  seated  in  the  boat,  father 
missed  my  sister  Maria.  There  was  momentary 
alarm,  for  mother  feared  she  might  have  fallen 
into  the  water  unobserved.  Our  anxiety  was, 
however,  fortunately  this  time  but  of  short 
duration  ;  for  looking  to  a  little  distance,  father 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  75 

saw  her  busily  playing  with  a  group  of  children. 
We  soon  had  her  with  us,  and  had  a  hearty 
laugh  beside  at  our  unnecessary  alarm. 

When  we  were  all  on  board,  and  the  vessel 
struck  out  for  the  open  sea,  she  appeared  like  a 
thing  of  life.  The  people  on  shore  looked  on 
admiringly ;  the  scene  was  indeed  most  enliven- 
ing. The  good  ship  seemed  like  a  bird  on  the 
ocean  wave ;  gaily  she  flapped  her  sails  as  the 
wind  filled  them.  Now  she  rose  on  the  breast 
of  a  billow ;  then  dipped  down  into  the  briny 
tide.  We  enjoyed  the  sensation. 


76  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 

"  Adieu,  adieu !  my  native  shore 

Fades  orer  the  waters  blue; 
The  night  winds  sigh,  the  breakers  roar, 

And  shrieks  the  wild  sea-mew. 
Yon  sun  that  sets  upon  the  sea, 

We  follow  in  his  flight : 
Farewell  awhile  to  him  and  thee, 
My  native  land,  good-night." 

Byron. 

"The  uptorn  waves  rolled  hoar  and  huge; 

The  far-thrown  undulations 
Swelled  out  in  the  sun's  last  lingering  smile, 
And  fell  like  battling  nations." 

J.  0.  EocltweU. 

"A  sound  comes  on  the  rising  breeze, 

A  sweet  and  lovely  sound; 
Piercing  the  tumult  of  the  seas 
That  wildly  dash  around. 

From  land,  from  sunny  land  it  comes, 
From  hills  with  murmuring  trees, 

From  paths  by  still  and  happy  homes — 
That  sweet  sound  on  the  breeze." 

Felicia  .Hemans. 

The  ship  in  which  we  sailed  was   of  the 
largest  kind,  and  was  named  after  the  river 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  77 

"Weser.  There  were  on  board  between  two 
and  three  hundred  passengers,  one-third  of 
whom  were  Jews.  In  a  few  days  we  lost  sight 
of  beautiful  Germany,  the  land  of  our  birth ; 
our  Fatherland.  It  faded  from  our  vision  like 
a  speck  on  the  horizon,  as  we  followed  in  the 
sun's  path  to  seek  our  home  in  the  far  off  West. 
Even  the  youngest  of  our  number  waited  and 
watched  till  land  could  no  longer  be  seen; 
and  sea  and  sky  alone  were  visible. 

We  saw  tears  in  our  mother's  eyes.  She 
remembered  friends  left  behind,  and  felt  we 
were  going  a  long  way  to  make  new  ones. 
We,  too,  were  ready  to  weep,  thinking  of  the 
companions  we  were  never  more  to  meet.  But 
father  kept  a  brave  heart,  and  spoke  cheering 
words  to  us,  which  made  smiles  come  and  chase 
the  tears  away. 

Childhood's  heart,  like  the  violet-eyed  helio- 
trope, turns  ever  to  the  sun.  Sorrow  beyond 
its  years  may  weigh  it  down,  but  let  the  sun- 
light look  in,  and  straightway  its  chambers  are 
full  of  light.  We  were  soon  well  pleased  with 
our  home  on  the  deep  blue  sea.  We  visited 
every  part  of  the  big  ship,  and  were  wonder- 
fully curious  concerning  everything  about  it. 
There  were  no  resources  we  did  not  discover. 


73  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

"We  asked  innumerable  questions  as  to  what 
each  meant,  what  its  purpose  was,  and  all  else 
a  child's  busy  brain  could  think  of. 

The  experiences  of  the  first  few  weeks  were 
pleasant.  There  were  calm  moonlight  nights. 
These  were  far  more  weird  and  fascinating 
than  moonlight  nights  on  land.  At  least  so  we 
children  thought,  and  we  loved  to  stay  up  late 
and  watch  the  silvery  matron  as  she  dived 
down  into  the  ocean,  or  rested  in  calm  serenity 
on  its  bosom.  Music  and  dancing  gave  to  the 
evening  hours  a  rapid  flight.  Our  amusements 
in  the  day  time  were  looking  for  immense  fish, 
watching  the  sailors  as  they  climbed  to  the 
masthead,  or  attended  to  the  various  work  on 
board  ship.  We  made  friends  with  the  captain 
and  steward,  with  the  latter  rather  more  par- 
ticularly, as  occasionally  he  treated  us  to  lumps 
of  sugar  and  other  good  things. 

After  four  weeks  of  pleasant  weather,  our 
enjoyments  were  broken  in  upon  by  a  severe 
storm,  which  lasted  three  days  and  nights. 
All  this  time  we  were  enveloped  in  a  heavy 
mist ;  this  became  so  dense  that  the  sky  was 
dark  as  night;  it  hid  everything  frohi  view. 
"  There  was  not  a  clear  speck  in  heaven,"  save 
when  the  lightning  flashed.  For  an  instant, 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  79 

then,  there  would  be  zigzag  gleams  of  light, 
that  made  the  darkness  more  fearful.  The 
thunder  crashed,  making  the  vault  of  heaven 
hideous  with  wild  reverberations.  The  mad 
waves  lashed  each  other  into  fury.  The 
children  crouched  in  terror  close  to  their 
parents.  All  was  consternation  and  dismay, 
for  danger  seemed  inevitable.  But  Provi- 
dence interposed,  as  in  days  of  old ;  He  bade 
the  turbulent  sea  "peace  be  still,"  and  the 
angry  storm  subsided.  Its  sobbings  died  off 
in  the  distance.  The  sky  again  was  clear,  and 
the  voice  of  the  winds  sank  low  as  a  gentle 
lullaby  song. 

A  lovely  rainbow  was  stretched  across  the 
heavens.  "We  knew  this  was  a  promise  of  fair 
weather.  "We  remembered  it  was  God's  cove- 
nant with  man  when  another  and  fiercer  storm 
swept  over  land  and  sea,  and  earth  was  deluged 
in  its  wrath.  The  ark  reminded  us  of  our  own 
good  ship.  It  reached  Mount  Ararat,  and 
rested  there  in  safety,  and  the  bow  was  in  the 
clouds,  a  promise  of  protection.  "We  thought 
our  bark  would  reach  its  destined  port,  and  we 
should  see  God's  smile  in  the  sky. 

There  was  a  great  variety  of  people  on  board 
ship.  Young  as  I  was,  I  noticed  many  pecu- 


80  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

liaritics  ;  some  in  disposition,  some  in  manner, 
and  some  in  outward  appearance.  A  sea  voyage 
furnishes  admirable  opportunity  of  observing 
character.  It  is  an  old  saying,  "  to  know 
people  well,  you  should  live  with  them ; "  and 
though  I  was  a  child,  I  would  sit  for  hours 
making  studies  of  the  persons  by  whom  I  was 
surrounded.  A  child's  perceptions,  though  im- 
mature, are  acute,  if  not  always  accurate.  Its 
preference  generally  indicates  the  possession  of 
good  and  noble  traits  by  the  individual  pre- 
ferred. Their  nervous  sensibility  is  true,  if  no 
higher  medium  be  the  avenue  leading  to  their 
friendships.  We  have  often  observed  a  charm- 
ing exterior  repulse  a  child,  while  absolute 
deformity  has  attracted.  This  is  because  the 
homely  exterior  was  the  garb  of  a  true  heart, 
and  the  child  readily  discerned  it.  The  expres- 
sion is  often  heard — it  is  a  good  sign  to  be 
loved  by  the  children. 

During  the  weeks  that  intervened  before  we 
again  saw  land,  we  found  many  kind  friends 
among  the  passengers,  and  we  had  many  favor- 
ites. They  entertained  us  with  the  telling  of 
interesting  and  amusing  stories.  These  would 
excite  great  wonder;  but  more  frequently 
unbounded  mirth,  and  peals  of  ringing,  musica] 
laughter,  would  be  heard  all  over  the  ship. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  81 

It  afforded  infinite  pleasure  to  every  one  to 
see  us  grouped,  eager  listeners,  while  these 
marvellous  stories  were  being  told.  Some  of 
them  were  of  the  new  country  to  which  we 
were  going.  Astonishing  things  were  narrated, 
and  we  were  very  credulous,  but  sometimes 
they  were  so  highly  colored,  that  we  knew 
they  were  manufactured  at  the  time  for  our 
amusement.  The  cook  would  paint  his  face 
black,  and  tell  us  that  he  looked  like  all  the 
Americans  did.  That  when  we  had  been  there 
long  enough,  we  would  turn  black  too.  This 
puzzled  us  greatly,  for  he  told  the  story  with  a 
grave  face,  and  we  feared  it  might  be  true. 

The  captain  also  would  occasionally  join  in 
our  sports.  He  would  throw  handsful  of  raisins 
and  prunes  over  the  deck,  and  have  us  all 
scampering  to  pick  them  up.  We  would  laugh 
and  shout,  and  he  would  be  equally  merry. 
We  considered  this  rare  fun.  In  this  way  the 
tedium  of  a  long  voyage  was  lessened,  and  our 
trip  made  very  pleasant  to  think  upon  in  the 
future. 

We  had  some  discomfitures,  as  well  as  the 
older  travellers.  We  were  nearly  all  sea-sick. 
As  the  vessel  would  rock  and  plunge,  our 
sensations  were  anything  but  agreeable.  Some- 


82  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

times  we  felt  that  we  would  rather  die  than 
live.  But  we  encountered  only  one  severe 
storm,  and  very  little  blustering  weather;  so 
we  could  not  complain.  Our  few  disagreeable 
experiences  made  the  pleasant  ones  all  the 
more  acceptable. 

During  the  journey  I  had  one  annoyance; 
my  eyes  became  terribly  inflamed.  I  did  not 
at  first  mind  it ;  I  thought  it  would  pass  off 
soon.  But  the  trouble  increased,  and  assumed 
a  virulent  form.  Everything  was  done  to  allay 
it,  but  without  success  It  was  a  continued 
source  of  pain  ;  still  we  thought  it  temporary, 
and  my  parents  were  not  uneasy.  The  physi- 
cian on  board  thought  the  irritation  resulted 
from  having  bathed  my  eyes  in  salt  water. 
The  result,  however,  proved  more  serious  than 
had  been  anticipated. 

The  affliction,  slight  as  it  appeared,  was  the 
forerunner  of  disease  that  no  skill  could  remedy. 
I  did  not  dream  of  this  for  a  moment.  I  was 
gradually  prepared  for  the  loss  I  was  to  sustain. 
Had  this  not  been  so,  I  could  not  have  borne 
the  trial.  For  years  this  one  shadow  was  slowly 
but  surely  stealing  across  my  path.  Tet  when 
it  had  fallen  so  deeply  that  no  light  could 
penetrate  it,  I  was  saaly  stricken.  But  I  will 
not  anticipate. 


MART   A.    NIEMEYER.  83 

When  we  had  been  eight  weeks  on  the  sea, 
we  came  in  sight  of  land.  The  shores  at  first 
appeared  like  a  dark  thread  along  the  horizon. 
Then  the  outline  became  clearer.  We  watched 
intensely,  as  objects  one  after  another  became 
defined.  It  seemed  to  us  the  land  of  promise. 
All  were  in  excellent  spirits,  for  we  had  come 
through  great  peril,  and  were  thankful  for  the 
near  prospect  of  being  on  land  again. 

The  children  were  gathered  on  deck,  eagerly 
looking  on,  when  suddenly  they  shouted,  "  See, 
see,  there  are  the  black  people  the  cook  told  us 
of!"  Sure  enough,  there  they  were,  a  num- 
ber of  them,  coining  towards  the  vessel  in  small 
schooners.  The  sight  to  us  was  a  novel  one. 
We  began  to  think  the  stories  we  had  heard 
about  the  people  in  America  were  true.  Some 
of  us  feared  we  might  turn  black  too,  as  we  had 
been  told  we  should,  when  we  had  been  long 
enough  in  the  country.  The  older  people  were 
amused  at  our  consternation.  They  told  us 
they  thought  the  cook  must  have  meant  the 
Indians,  when  he  said  the  Americans  were  all 
black  ;  or  that  he  was  joking  with  us,  trying  to 
see  how  much  he  could  make  us  believe.  We 
were  much  interested  in  the  coal  black  shiny 
faces  before  us,  and  gazed  at  them  as  long  as 
we  had  the  opportunity. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

Four  days  after  our  first  sight  of  land,  our 
vessel  arrived  safe  in  port.  It  was  early  on 
Sunday  morning.  As  soon  as  we  were  on 
shore,  we  returned  thanks  to  God,  for  His 
merciful  preservation,  and  sang  a  hymn  of 
praise. 

When  we  tried  to  walk,  we  found  ourselves 
unable  to  do  so  without  swaying  from  side  to 
side.  We  could  scarcely  stand  upright ;  when 
we  endeavored  to  do  so,  we  felt  as  if  we  should 
surely  fall  down.  We  had  become  accustomed 
to  the  motion  of  the  ship,  and  in  spite  of  all 
our  efforts,  we  would  rock  as  it  had  done  when 
bearing  us  o'er  the  bright  blue  sea.  In  a  few 
days,  however,  we  managed  to  overcome  this 
undulating  tendency,  and  walked  very  well 
for  people  who  had  not  been  on  terra  Jirma  for 
so  long  a  time. 


MARY    A.    NIKMEYER.  85 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  The  hearth  of  home  has  a  constant  flame, 

And  pure  as  vestal  fire; 
'Twill  burn,  'twill  burn,  forever  the  same, 
For  Nature  feeds  the  pyre." 

Mrs.  Hale. 

"  Affliction  is  the  wholesome  soil  of  virtue ; 
Where  patience,  honor,  sweet  humanity, 
Calm  fortitude,  take  root  and  strongly  flourish." 

Mallet. 

"Thou  bright  and  star-like  spirit, 

That  in  my  visions  mild, 
I  see  'mid  heaven's  seraphic  host — 
O,  canst  thou  be  my  child? 

Thy  feeble  feet,  unsteady, 

That  tottered  as  they  trod, 
With  angels  walk  the  heavenly  paths, 

Or  stand  before  their  God." 

Thomas  Ward. 

"We  landed  in  Baltimore,  a  thriving,  prosper- 
ous city,  whose  open  port  promised  then  to  vie 
with  those  of  older  fame.  This  promise  has 
not  failed;  it  has  been  proved  she  has  great 
advantages  for  commercial  purposes.  We 


86  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

remained  here  only  two  days,  a  too  short  time 
to  see  much  of  the  city  or  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  people.  Everything  we  saw  or  heard 
impressed  us  favorably.  The  monument  in 
memory  of  George  Washington  we  thought 
imposing  and  very  beautiful.  The  shaft,  in  its 
great  height  typifying  the  lofty  character  of 
the  Father  of  his  Country,  appeared  to  us  a 
most  fitting  memorial.  At  least,  when  it  had 
been  explained  to  us  how  good  and  great  a 
man  it  honored,  we  realized  this  as  far  as  child- 
ren might  be  expected  to ;  not  with  so  large  an 
appreciation  as  older  persons,  of  course.  "We 
have  since  learned  to  estimate  for  ourselves 
the  wonderful  combination  of  virtues  found  in 
this  man.  We  are  reminded  here  of  many 
tributes  paid  his  memory,  for  in  every  land  his 
praise  has  been  sung. 

We  find,  perhaps,  the  greatest  force  and  the 
truest  portraiture  from  an  English  lady's  gifted 
pen.  She  gives  the  first  place  among  heroes  to 
America's  noble  son.  We  will  quote  a  part 
of  her  eloquent  thought : — 

"Rome  had  its  Csesar,  jjreat  and  brave,  but  stain  was 

on  his  wreath; 

He  lived  the  heartless  conqueror,  and  died  the  tyrant's 
death. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  87 

France  had  its  Eagle;  but  his  wings,  though  lofty 
they  might  soar, 

Were  spread  in  false  ambition's  flight,  and  dipped  in 
murder's  gore. 

Those  hero-gods,  whose  mighty  sway  would  fain  have 
chained  the  waves, 

Who  fleshed  their  blades  with  tiger  zeal,  to  make  a 
world  of  slaves, 

Who,  though  their  kindred  barred  the  path,  still  fiercely 
waded  on; 

Oh,  where  shall  be  ifteir  '  glory '  by  the  side  of  Wash- 
ington ! 

He  fought,  but  not  with  love  of  strife ;  he  struck  but 
to  defend; 

And  ere  he  turned  a  people's  foe,  he  sought  to  be  a 
friend. 

He  strove  to  keep  his  country's  right  by  reason's  gentle 
word, 

And  sighed  when  fell  injustice  threw  the  challenge- 
sword  to  sword. 

He  stood  the  firm,  the  calm,  the  wise,  the  patriot  and 
the  sage; 

He  showe<  no  deep,  avenging  hate,  no  burst  of  despot 
rafee. 

He  stood  for  liberty  and  truth,  and  dauntlessly  led  on, 

Till  shouts  of  victory  gave  forth  the  name  of  Wash- 
ington." 

But  all  enconium  is  vain  to  give  the  simple 
grandeur  of  a  character  such  as  his :  the  heart  of 
the  people  makes  each  its  estimate,  and  offers 
its  meed  of  worship. 


88  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

We  thought  Baltimore  must  be  a  pleasant 
place  to  live  in,  not  bustling  and  noisy,  nor 
over-given  to  business. 

Sociality  seemed  a  predominant  element. 
The  people  were  hospitable  and  kind.  They 
were  moderate  in  their  modes  of  living,  com- 

O  * 

pared  with  residents  of  other  cities  of  equal 
pretensions.  These  views  I  have  heard  my 
parents  frequently  express  as  their  first  impres- 
sions of  Baltimore,  and  I  have  since  found 
them  correct,  from  my  own  observation.  We 
liked  the  place  and  people  exceedingly. 

Our  sight-seeing  over,  we  left  for  Middle- 
town,  Frederick  county,  Maryland,  sixty  miles 
distant.  My  father's  brother  had  settled  there 
soon  after  he  reachpd  America.  We  spent  a 
few  very  pleasant  days  with  my  uncle's  family, 
talking  of  everything  connected  with  our  former 
home,  recalling  many  persons  and  events  almost 
forgotten  by  those  who  were  now  so  removed 
from  them. 

Father  rented  a  house  in  the  village.  When 
We  had  moved  into  it,  we  felt  that  we  were 
once  more  in  our  own  home.  We  had  passed 
through  various  trials,  and  it  was  delight- 
ful to  us  to  be  again  quietly  settled.  There 
was  relief  in  the  very  idea,  and  a  feeling  of 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYER.  89 

repose  that  we  had  not  known  for  months. 
The  villagers  were  kind  in  many  ways.  They 
could  not  understand  our  language,  nor  we 
their's ;  still  they  aided  us  greatly.  They  had 
a  disposition  to  be  of  service,  and  words  were 
not  necessary.  When  the  heart  is  kindly  dis- 
posed, all  obstacles  may  be  overcome.  Generous 
feelings  will  always  find  expression,  even  though 
it  be  but  with  the  ready  hand,  or  friendly 
smile.  "  Actions  speak  louder  than  words  "  is 
a  true  saying,  which  has  lost  none  of  its  force 
in  its  time-worn  usage. 

As  soon  after  we  were  settled  as  my  father's 
pressing  business  duties  would  permit,  he  called 
in  a  physician  to  examine  my  eyes.  They  had 
been  growing  worse  instead  of  better.  They 
were  inflamed  and  painful.  I  could  use  them 
but  little  without  acute  suffering.  Dr.  Smith 
examined  them  carefully,  and  pronounced  the 
disease  a  severe  form  of  ophthalmia,  which,  he 
feared,  could  not  be  arrested.  He  did  not  think 
my  sight  was  in  danger,  but  I  should  always 
have  weak  vision,  owing  to  the  inflammation 
having  assumed  a  chronic  form.  He  pronounced 
one  eye  more  seriously  affected  than  the  other, 
still  thought  the  sight  of  one  was  strong,  and 
not  likely  to  be  impaired.  This  was  encourag* 
8 


90  ATTTOBIOGRAPTIY    OF 

ing  intelligence,  for  we  had  now  begun  to  dread 
my  going  blind. 

In  order  to  prevent  the  inflammation  spread- 
ing, Dr.  Smith  put  a  seton  in  the  back  of  my 
neck.  This  was  to  remain  there  three  months. 
It  was  very  painful,  but  I  strove  to  bear  it 
patiently,  as  there  was  a  fearful  possibility,  if 
the  doctor's  advice  were  not  followed  strictly. 

Father  thought  it  best  at  once  to  place  my 
brothers  at  trades.  He  succeeded  in  accom- 
plishing his  wishes,  satisfactorily  to  himself  and 
to  them  also.  Two  went  about  fifteen  miles 
from  home,  and  one  found  employment  in  the 
village.  My  two  younger  sisters  and  myself 
remained  at  home  to  attend  school.  Many 
strange  conjectures  were  indulged  in  respecting 
the  new  school.  We  wondered  if  it  would  be 
like  the  one  in  Deisel ;  if  the  teacher  would  be 
as  good  and  kind,  and  as  good  looking ;  if  we 
should  see  any  faces  blackened  like  the  cook's, 
•  when  he  got  himself  up  for  our  amusement ; 
these,  and  many  other  foolish  things  were  in 
our  thoughts,  as  the  time  for  going  approached. 

As  soon  as  mother  had  made  some  necessary 
arrangements,  we  started.  We  found  it  very 
like  the  one  we  had  attended.  We  saw  no 
black  faces,  only  bright  sunny  ones — rosy  and 


MARY   A.    NIEMETER.  91 

laughing — just  such  as  we  had  often  seen 
before.  We  did  not  feel  that  we  were  in  a 
strange  place,  but  quite  at  home,  more  so 
perhaps,  than  we  had  felt  since  we  were  last  in 
a  similar  place.  We  recalled  a  band  of  happy 
children  and  a  kind  teacher  in  a  land  beyond 
the  sea,  and  hoped  our  present  associations 
would  prove  just  as  pleasant. 

We  had  been  taught  the  English  alphabet 
since  our  arrival  in  Middletown,  by  our  Sunday 
school  teacher,  Miss  Elizabeth  Young.  This 
lady  had  endeared  herself  to  us  by  her  winning 
ways,  and  the  interest  she  felt  in  our  advance- 
ment. It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  we  had 
learned  even  the  alphabet  of  the  language 
which  we  were  to  speak.  We  felt  less  embar- 
rassment, than  if  we  had  been  utterly  ignorant. 
We  remembered  with  gratitude  the  assistance 
we  had  received.  Our  friend  had  not  thought 
of  the  service  her  instruction  would  be  to  us. 

When  I  had  been  in  school  about  eight 
months,  my  eyes  grew  much  worse.  They  were 
weaker,  and  sometimes  I  could  scarcely  see  at 
all.  This  interfered  greatly  with  my  improve- 
ment. I  made  little  if  any  progress.  One  dav 
the  teacher,  Mr.  Haupt,  said  to  me,  "  Mary, 
you  do  not  read  as  well  now  as  you  did  six 


92  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

weeks  ago."  I  had  not  told  him  with  what 
difficulty  I  could  see  at  all.  My  eyes  appeared 
no  more  inflamed  than  they  had  for  some  time, 
and  he  was  surprised  that  I  did  not  improve, 
as  he  knew  me  to  be  studious. 

My  spirits  were  depressed.  I  had  no  heart 
for  work  of  any  sort,  as  everything  cost  me  so 
great  an  effort.  I  could  not  bear  to  talk  of  my 
affliction,  therefore  endured  a  great  deal  of 
pain  without  speaking  of  it.  The  grief  is 
heaviest  of  which  we  cannot  speak.  For  our 
lighter  sorrows  we  may  ask  sympathy,  but  if 
we  have  irremediable  sorrow,  the  heart  will 
hide  it  away,  and  the  lips  will  be  silent. 

For  months  an  indefinable  dread  had  been 
hanging  over  me.  It  began  now  to  take  form, 
and  I  knew  a  severe  calamity  was  in  store  for 
me.  No  one  looked  or  spoke  hopefully,  when 
the  condition  of  my  eyes  was  the  subject  of 
conversation.  When  I  turned  to  those  I  loved, 
their  faces  were  sad.  This  was  confirmation 
for  my  worst  fears.  I  could  not  be  light-hearted 
or  gay,  as  other  children  were.  I  would  often 
steal  away  from  my  companions,  and  go.  off  by 
myself  to  weep.  I  strove  to  overcome  these 
feelings ;  struggled  hard  to  reason  with  myself, 
how  foolish  it  was;  but  all  to  no  avail;  the 


MART   A.   NIEMEYER.  93 

pall  was  settling  on  my  life,  and  I  could  not 
help  grieving. 

Mother  at  this  time  was  often  more  quiet 
than  usual.  When  asked  why  this  was  so,  she 
reminded  us  that  the  anniversary  of  the  death 
of  our  little  brother  Louis  would  soon  occur. 

She  had  not  forgotten  the  little  sleeper ;  and 
as  the  merry  Christmas  time  approached,  her 
thoughts  wandered  to  the  land  where  her  babe 
was  buried.  Her  heart  echoed  the  tender 
musings  of  the  poet,  as  she  thought  of  her 
child — one  year  in  heaven. 

"One  year  among  the  angels,  beloved,  thou  hast  been; 
One  year  has  heaven's  white  portal  shut  back  the  sound 

of  sin : 
And  yet  no  voice,  no  whisper,  comes  floating  down 

from  thee, 
To  tell  us  what  glad  wonder  a  year  of  heaven  may  be. 

Our  hearts  before  it  listen, — the  beautiful  closed  gate, 
The  silence  yearns  around  us;  we  listen  as  we  wait. 
It  is  thy  heavenly  birthday,  on  earth  thy  lilies  bloom; 
In  thine  immortal  garland  canst  find  for  these  no 
room? 

Thou  lovedst  all  things  lovely  when  walking  with  us 

here ; 
Now  from  the  height  of  heaven  seems  earth  no  longer 

dear  ? 
"We  cannot  paint  thee  moving  in  white  robed  state 

afar, 


94  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Nor  dream  our  flower  of  comfort,  a  cool  and  distant 

star. 

Heaven  is  but  life  made  richer ;  there  can  be  no  loss ; 
To  meet  our  love  and  longing  thou  hast  no  gulf  to 

cross ; 

No  adamant  between  us  uproars  its  rocky  screen; 
A  veil  before  us  only,  thou  in  the  light  serene. 

That  veil  'twixt  earth  and  heaven  a  breath  might 

waft  aside; 

We  breathe  one  air,  beloved,  we  follow  one  dear  Guide : 
Passed  into  open  vision,  out  of  our  mists  and  rain, 
Thou  seest  how  sorrow  blossoms;  how  peace  is  won 

from  pain. 

As  half  we  feel  thee  leaning  from  thy  deep  calm  of 

bliss, 

To  say  of  earth,  'Beloved,  how  beautiful  it  is! 
The  lilies  in  this  splendor,  the  green  leaves  in  this 

dew; 
O  earth  is  also  heaven,  with  God's  light  clothed  anew !' 

So  when  the  sky  seems  bluer,  and  when  the  blossoms 
wear 

Some  tender,  mystic  shading,  we  never  knew  was  there, 

We'll  say,  « We  see  things  earthly  by  light  of  cherub- 
eyes; 

He  bends  where  we  are  gazing  to-day,  from  Paradise.' 

Because  we  know  thee  near  us,  and  nearer  still  to 

Him 

Who  fills  thy  cup  of  being  with  glory  to  the  brim; 
We  will  not  stain  with  grieving  our  fair,  though  fainter 

light, 
But  cling  to  thee  in  spirit,  as  if  thou  wert  in  sight. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  95 

And  as  in  waves  of  beauty  the  swift  years  come  and 

go, 

Upon  celestial  currents  our  deeper  life  shall  flow; 
Hearing  from  that  sweet  country  where  blighting  never 

came, 
Love  chime  the  hours  immortal,  in  earth  and  heaven 

the  same." 

"We  shared  with  our  mother  her  loving  recol- 
lection of  our  little  brother,  but  we  felt  he  was 
happy,  and  did  not  mourn.  It  was  the  first 
Christmas  since  his  heaven-life  began.  We 
should  miss  him  from  our  sports.  But  our 
household  pet  was  at  home  "  in  a  mansion  not 
made  with  hands,"  where,  if  we  led  holy  lives, 
we  should  again  see  him,  with  no  fear  of 
separation. 

"We  were  pleasantly  situated  at  this  time, 
and  should  have  had  no  cause  for  unhappiness, 
had  not  the  one  dark  cloud  been  in  my  sky ; 
still  all  strove  not  to  murmur,  but  to  hope  for 
the  best,  till  the  worst  had  surely  come- 


96  AUTOBIOGKAPHY    OF 


CHAPTEE  X. 

"Seest  tbou  my  home?  'tis  where  yon  woods  are  waving 

In  their  dark  richness  to  the  sunny  air ; 
Where  yon  blue  stream,  a  thousand  flower  banks  laving, 
Leads  down  the  hills — a  vein  of  light — 'tis  there. 

Midst  these  green  haunts  how  many  a  spring  lies  gleam- 
ing, 

Fring'd  with  the  violet,  color'd  with  the  skies; 
My  girlhood's  haunt  through  days  of  summer  dreaming, 
Under  young  leaves  that  shook  with  melodies." 

Felicia  Hemans. 

"  The  loveliest  village  of  the  plain, 
Where  health  and  plenty  cheered  the  laboring  swain; 
How  often  have  I  paused  on  every  charm! 
The  sheltered  cot,  the  cultivated  farm, 
The  never-failing  brook,  the  busy  mill, 
The  decent  church  that  topped  the  neighboring  hill. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Let  the  rich  deride,  the  proud  disdain 
These  simple  blessings  of  the  lowly  train ; 
To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  heart, 
One  native  charm,  than  all  the  gloss  of  art." 

Oliver  Goldsmith. 

"My  boy,  thou  wilt  dream  the  world  is  fair, 

And  thy  spirit  will  sigh  to  roam; 
And  thou  must  go;  but  never  when  there 
Forget  the  light  of  home." 

Mrs.  Hale. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEB.  97 

The  Spring  following  onr  arrival  in  America 
father  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Routzahn, 
one  of  the  wealthiest  farmers  in  Frederick 
county.  This  gentleman  desired  that  he  should 
assist  him  on  his  farm,  located  three  miles  from 
the  village;  and  as  it  was  too  far  for  him  to 
return  home  at  night,  it  was  arranged  that  we 
should  occupy  a  house  on  the  place.  We 
thought  we  never  should  like  country  life; 
still,  we  preferred  having  father  with  us,  and 
were  glad,  under  the  circumstances,  to  make  the 
change.  The  family  were  very  social,  and 
always  cordial  in  their  intercourse  with  us. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Routzahn,  a  son  and  daughter, 
constituted  their  household  group.  My  sisters 
and  myself  spent  much  of  our  time  with  Miss 
Routzahn,  she  being  anxious  to  learn  German. 
She  was  very  industrious  in  her  study  of  the 
language ;  indeed,  in  every  thing  else  also.  It 
might  have  been  supposed  her  daily  bread 
depended  upon  the  accomplishment  of  whatever 
she  undertook,  with  such  zeal  and  persistence 
did  she  apply  herself. 

The    modes    of  farming    differed    in   some 

respects   from   those   employed  in   Germany. 

The  same  kinds  of  machinery  were  not  used. 

It  required  time  to  understand  fully  these  pecu- 

9 


98  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

liarities ;  but  father  had  been  a  practical  farmer, 
and  he  soon  overcame  the  difficulties  in  his 
way,  and  succeeded  admirably.  He  assisted 
Mr.  Routzahn  on  this  farm  a  year ;  after  which 
time  it  was  proposed  he  should  remove  to 
another,  still  larger,  five  miles  distant,  and 
take  full  charge  of  it.  This  offer  suited  us  in 
every  way,  and  was  promptly  accepted.  We 
now  found  ourselves  most  agreeably  situated. 
It  was  a  lovely  place,  and  we  thought  there 
surely  could  be  nothing  more  for  us  to  desire. 
This  last  farm  was  in  that  grouping  of  beauti- 
ful gardens  found  in  Middletown  valley.  This 
valley  is  not  unknown.  It  is  like  a  diamond, 
more  to  be  admired  for  its  beauty  than  its  size. 
Its  population  is  about  ten  thousand  souls. 
The  inhabitants  are  principally  farmers.  Scat- 
tered here  and  there  are  many  pretty  villages. 
These  are  not  large,  but  are  neat  and  attractive, 
just  a  pleasant  distance  from  each  other.  The 
people  are  industrious,  and  are  also  talkative 
and  lively,  with  perhaps,  if  we  may  venture  to 
say  it,  a  spice  of  gossip,  too,  among  them.  We 
had  reason  to  judge  so,  for  we  found  that  we 
as  strangers,  had  elicited  the  usual  amount  of 
curiosity.  When  this  was  satisfied,  we  found 
the  people  kind  and  clever.  Nor  do  we  think 


MAEY    A.    KIEMEYEB.  99 

them  in  tlieir  interest  in  their  neighbors'  affairs 
very  unlike  their  friends  and  sisters  who  live 
in  towns  or  cities.  Any  new  comer  is  a  subject 
of  surmise,  for  a  day  at  least.  In  large  cities 
there  is  so  much  to  occupy  one's  attention,  that 
there  is  not  time  to  be  quite  as  curious  as 
villagers  have  the  reputation  of  being. 

I  never  felt  like  endorsing  the  customary 
hits  at  village  gossip,  while  the  small  talk  of 
older  sisters,  larger  grown,  is  allowed  to  go 
unimpeached.  People  will  talk,  whether  it  be 
in  city  or  in  village,  and  the  weakness  is  not 
generally  as  unamiable  as  it  is  made  to  appear. 
A  village  was  my  home  all  the  early  part  of 
my  life;  and  I  heard  less  mere  idle  gossip  than 
when  I  resided  in  a  city.  Fashion,  parade, 
show,  a  neighbor's  style  of  dress,  seemed  to  be 
reigning  topics,  just  as  much  as  in  the  village, 
even  in  an  added  degree  in  proportion  to  its 
greater  size.  In  either  place 

"  It  is  a  custom 
More  honor'd  in  the  breach,  than  the  observance." 

There  are  themes  lofty  and  ennobling,  quite 
enough  to  fill  each  little  span  of  life ;  and  it 
does  seem  pitiable  while  this  is  true,  that  men 
and  women  should  condescend  to  the  very 


100  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

drudgery  of  speech.  The  evil  is  not  often 
negative  in  its  influence,  but  more  apt  always 
to  do  harm  than  good. 

So  much  for  our  opinion  of  gossip,  wherever 
found.  Now  I  will  take  you,  patient  reader, 
back  to  Middletown  valley,  the  beauty  of 
which  is  really  indescribable.  It  should  be 
seen  to  be  appreciated.  Fancy  a  cluster  of 
jewels :  an  emerald,  a  garnet,  and  an  amethyst, 
forming  a  Mosaic  groundwork ;  an  atmosphere 
around,  white  and  soft  as  a  pearl,  with  an  opal 
sky  above;  in  the  distance  the  mountains, 
rugged  and  sublime  for  a  setting,  and  you  see 
it  as  it  appeared  to  me  when  first  my  eyes 
looked  upon  it,  and  as  it  has  been  in  my 
memory  ever  since. 

Mountains  overlook  the  entire  area  of  the 
valley ;  there  they  stand,  God's  sentinels,  tow- 
ering in  their  height,  the  embodiment  of 
majesty,  and  fitting  symbols  of  strength. 
Their  sides  and  summits  are  covered  with 
forests.  They  give  birth  to  blessed  streamlets, 
that  ripple  and  gurgle  their  way  to  the  valley 
below,  irrigating  it,  and  causing  it  to  yield 
richly  all  the  products  of  the  soil.  Again 
these  streamlets  form  lovely  brooks  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  where  they  sparkle  and 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYER.  101 

spread  out  in  silver  sheen;  or  wearying  of 
restraint,  make  a  glad  escape,  and  go  laughing 
over  pebbly  beds,  through  fields  and  meadows, 
into  farm  yards,  where  we  see  them  glittering 
and  sparkling,  as  if  in  excess  of  joyousness. 

The  landscape  is  a  network  of  beautiful 
views,  a  very  kaleidoscope  in  its  ever-changing 
scenes.  Hills  rise  here  and  there,  clumps  of 
trees  form  natural  arbors,  with  now  and  then 
a  lonely  scion  of  the  wood,  in  solitary  pride, 
lifting  itself  up  from  the  earth  as  if  scorning 
companionship.  Under  the  spreading  boughs 
cattle  browse  and  doze  the  hours  away,  indolent 
and  blissful,  a  picture  of  calm  content. 

On  a  graceful  slope  may  be  seen  a  simple 
village  church,  its  gilded  spire  glittering  in  the 
sunlight ;  near  it  are  rustic  hamlets,  these  are 
picturesque,  though  unpretentious;  scattered 
on  the  hillsides  are  more  stylish  dwellings,  the 
homes  of  the  wealthier  residents, — the  whole 
forming  a  lovely  rural  landscape.  Truly  this 
valley  is  a  garden  spot,  abundantly  fertile, 
lavish  in  its  crops,  in  its  fruits,  and  adorned 
with  a  luxurious  growth  of  flowers.  Well- 
filled  barns  attest  how  the  farmer's  toil  has 
been  rewarded  ;  and  there  is  besides  a  general 
appearance  of  prosperity. 


102  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Our  surroundings  were  of  a  most  delightful 
character.  We  almost  forgot  there  was  distress 
or  vicissitude  to  be  encountered.  The  days  flew 
swiftly  by  in  this  Eden-home.  Our  parents 
had  passed  through  severe  perplexities,  but 
now  they  looked  forward  to  long-continued 
happiness.  How  quickly  we  accommodate 
ourselves  to  such  a  condition  of  things.  We 
are  ever  ready  to  welcome  joy,  but  are  startled 
if  sorrow  follow  in  its  wake.  We  are  creatures 
easily  made  to  laugh  or  weep,  and  hours  full 
of  happy  thought  are  often  the  forerunners  of 
those  marked  only  by  anxious  foreboding. 

Shortly  after  we  were  settled  so  comfortably 
in  our  new  home,  father  was  surprised  by 
intelligence  received  in  a  letter  from  brother 
Andrew,  that  brother  Charles  had  left  his  situa- 
tion, and  no  one  knew  where  he  had  gone. 
This  distressed  us  all,  for  we  supposed  he  was 
entirely  satisfied  with  the  arrangements  made 
for  him.  Father  and  mother  had  not  thought 
for  a  moment,  even  if  not  pleased,  that  he 
would  leave  without  consulting  them.  No 
pains  were  spared  to  learn  his  whereabouts, 
but  without  avail.  His  plans  had  been  so  made 
and  carried  out,  that  all  search  failed.  We  were 
beginning  to  dread  lest  some  dire  calamity  had 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  103 

happened  to  him.  We  feared,  at  best,  years 
might  elapse  before  we  should  hear  from  him. 
Mother  would  sit  for  hours,  wondering  what 
had  become  of  her  missing  boy.  He  had  started 
out  to  bear  the  buffettings  of  the  world  alone. 
She  longed  to  welcome  him  again  to  her  mater- 
nal care.  She  had  tender  words  and  loving 
smiles  ready  to  greet  him  when  he  should 
return.  She  believed  he  would  come  back, 
and  patiently  waited  and  watched  ; 

"For  long  is  the  time  a  son  may  roam, 
Ere  he  tire  his  mother  out." 

Middletown  contains  six  churches.  The 
'  denominations  are  as  following :  the  Reformed, 
the  Lutheran,  the  Methodist,  the  United 
Brethren,  the  Roman  Catholic ;  besides  these, 
the  colored  people  have  a  church;  they  are 
generally  Methodists  in  belief.  The  people  are 
religiously  inclined  throughout  the  valley,  and 
the  various  places  of  worship  are  well  attended. 

On  Sunday  morning  the  farmers  with  their 
families,  are  seen  in  their  carriages  going  to 
town  to  worship  God  with  the  gathered  multi- 
tude. After  service  many  remain  to  have  a 
chat,  while  the  congregation  is  slowly  dispers- 
ing. Then  they  return  to  their  quiet  homes. 


104  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

There  are  three  day  schools  in  the  place; 
these  are  well  conducted,  and  the  scholars 
make  creditable  improvement.  I  was  a  pupil 
while  I  remained  in  the  village,  and  was  much 
pleased  with  both  the  teachers  and  the  scholars. 

Father's  business  relations  with  Mr.  Rout- 
zahn  continued  to  be  of  the  most  pleasant 
character.  They  seemed  to  understand  each 
other  thoroughly.  But  we  were  destined  to 
make  another  change.  Miss  Routzahn  had 
married  Mr.  Doub,  a  gentleman  residing  in  the 
valley,  and  the  farm  we  had  was  desired  for 
their  home.  Our  friendship  was  unvarying, 
notwithstanding  our  separation.  These  were 
halcyon  days,  and  they  and  the  friends  asso- 
ciated with  them,  will  always  bring  to  us 
welcome  remembrances. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

"My  boy,  when  the  world  is  dark  to  thee, 
Then  turn  to  the  light  of  home." 

Mrs.  Hale. 

"If  hearty  sorrow 
Be  a  sufficient  remedy  for  offence, 
I  tender  it  here." 

Shaks.  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

"'Tis  easier  for  the  generous  to  forgive, 
Than  for  offence  to  ask  it." 

Tlwmsorfs  Edmund  and  Eleonora. 

"So  now  is  come  our  joyful'st  feast; 

Let  every  man  be  jolly; 
Each  room  with  ivy  leaves  is  drest, 

And  every  post  with  holly. 
Though  some  churls  at  our  mirth  repine, 
Round  your  foreheads  garlands  twine, 
And  let  us  all  be  merry." 

George  Wither. 

Four  months  had  elapsed  since  we  had  heard 
of  the  disappearance  of  brother  Charles.  Father 
had  been  unable  to  gain  any  information  con- 
cerning him.  We  were  at  an  utter  loss  to 
know  why  he  should  have  gone  away  in  the 


106  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

manner  he  had.  We  would  not  permit  our- 
selves to  cherish  for  a  moment  the  idea  that 
any  harm  had  overtaken  him.  Just  when 
father  had  determined  to  make  no  further 
inquiry  or  search,  he  received  a  letter  from  my 
grandfather  in  Germany ;  and  strange  enough, 
this  letter  contained  information  relating  to 
Charles.  He  had  written  from  Baltimore  to 
grandfather,  and  had  desired  that  news  of  his 
whereabouts  be  sent  to  his  parents.  He  had 
a  good  home  with  Mr.  Gaehle,  owner  of  a 
large  piano  manufactory,  who  had  no  child- 
ren, and  desired  to  adopt  him.  He  was  going 
to  school,  and,  besides,  was  learning  music. 
He  longed  to  see  father,  and  expressed  an 
earnest  desire  that  he  would  come  to  Baltimore. 
Father  started  immediately.  On  arriving  at 
Mr.  Gaehle's  establishment,  he  inquired  for 
Charles.  Yery  soon  father  and  son  met,  and 
great  was  the  rejoicing.  The  anxiety  and 
suspense  that  had  been  endured  were  forgotten 
in  the  happiness  of  the  reunion. 

He  told  father  how  he  happened  to  come 
to  Baltimore.  He  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the 
city  during  the  short  time  we  were  there,  upon 
our  arrival  in  the  country,  and  had  determined, 
if  ever  in  his  power,  he  would  get  there  again. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  107 

He  thought  he  would  like  to  make  it  his  home. 
The  situation  he  had  in  Urbana  did  not  suit 
him;  and  so  on  one  occasion,  meeting  a  farmer 
going  to  Baltimore  with  his  team  and  produce, 
he  seized  the  opportunity  and  accompanied 
the  man. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  they  reached 
the  city,  and  having  neither  friends  nor  acquain- 
tances, he  wandered  desolate  and  lonely  through 
the  streets,  wondering  where  he  should  find 
lodging  for  the  night.  He  was  sauntering 
along  thoughtfully,  and  not  in  a  very  hopeful 
mood,  when  an  elderly  lady  came  up  to  him, 
and  asked  him  why  he  looked  so  sad.  He  told 
her  he  had  just  arrived ;  that  he  was  a  stranger, 
without  friends  or  home.  She  told  him  if  he 
was  a  good  boy,  she  could  get  him  a  home  with 
her  nephew.  This  was  welcome  intelligence, 
and  was  most  gladly  received.  She  said  he 
must  go  with  her  to  her  home  for  the  night, 
and  the  next  day  she  would  take  him  to  her 
nephew's  house. 

After  a  night's  rest  and  a  good  breakfast, 
he  started  with  his  new  friend  for  the  home 
she  had  promised  him.  The  gentleman  proved 
to  be  Mr.  Gaehle.  He  was  pleased  with 
Charles;  indeed,  the  favorable  impression 


108  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

was  mutual,  and  an  agreement  was  at  once 
made  that  my  brother  should  become  one  of 
the  family.  He  found  his  friends  all  they 
appeared  to  be  on  a  first  acquaintance,  and  he 
was  delighted  with  his  prospects.  He  thought 
himself  extremely  fortunate. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gaehle  urged  him  to  write  to 
his  parents,  and  inform  them  where  he  was. 
He  did  not  tell  the  whole  of  his  story, 
fearino-  it  would  make  them  think  less  of  him. 

O 

They  supposed  that  his  parents  were  still  in 
Germany,  and  that  he  had  come  to  America 
alone.  There  was  an  evident  mystery;  but  he 
conducted  himself  well,  and  seemed  to  value 
their  friendship ;  so  his  kind  benefactors  con- 
tinued their  confidence  in  him. 

Charles  hesitated  writing  for  some  time, 
fearing  his  father's  displeasure;  but  finally 
he  determined  to  write  to  his  grandfather, 
explaining  all  the  circumstances,  and  request 
him  to  intercede  in  his  behalf. 

During  the  time  he  had  been  with  them,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gaehle  had  been  so  generous,  and  con- 
siderate, that  he  felt  he  could  no  longer  withhold 
his  full  confidence.  Mrs.  Gaehle  had  been  like 
a  mother  to  him.  He  concluded  to  tell  her  all : 
how  he  had  been  placed  at  a  trade  by  his  father, 


MART   A.    NIEMEYEK.  109 

but  not  liking  his  employer,  he  had  left,  and 
found  his  way  to  Baltimore.  He  told  her  his 
parents  were  not  in  Germany,  but  were  living 
in  Frederick  county  ;  that  he  had  not  informed 
his  father  where  he  was,  because  he  believed  it 
would  sorely  vex  him.  He  said  he  was  too 
unhappy  to  remain  with  the  family  with  whom 
he  had  been  placed,  therefore  resolved  to  try 
and  find  a  home  for  himself,  and  then  inform 
his  parents  what  he  had  done. 

While  Mrs.  Gaehle  sympathized  with  him, 
yet  she  urged  him  immediately  to  fulfil  his 
intention  of  writing  home,  which,  so  far,  he 
had  failed  to  do.  She  assured  him  it  was  the 
only  correct  course.  He  took  her  advice,  and 
wrote  to  grandfather,  and  in  due  time  the 
intelligence  reached  father. 

After  hearing  the  flattering  account  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gaehle,  which  Charles  related  so 
minutely,  it  could  only  be  admitted  he  had 
indeed  found  true  friends,  and  he  very  properly 
set  a  high  value  upon  them.  If  he  remained 
with  them,  they  promised  to  educate  him,  and  in 
every  respect  do  a  good  part  by  him.  Upon 
weighing  the  matter  carefully,  and  conferring 
with  mother,  it  was  decided  the  whole  occur- 
rence was  providential ;  and  father  and  mother 


110  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

determined  not  to  interfere.  They  gave  their 
consent,  and  Baltimore  became  my  brother's 
home. 

This  circumstance  resulted  advantageously 
for  Charles;  yet  it  should  be  no  precedent. 
He  should  not  have  acted  without  the  advice 
of  his  parents.  Where  such  a  course  might  in 
one  instance  turn  out  fortunately,  it  is  sure  to 
be  disastrous  in  a  majority  of  cases.  "  Honor 
thy  father  and  mother"  is  the  command  to 
which  the  promise  is  attached,  "  that  thy  days 
may  be  long  in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy 
God  giveth  thee."  The  only  safe  plan  is  to 
obey  this  command :  whosoever  faileth  to  do 
so,  standeth  in  slippery  places. 

Father  prolonged  his  stay  in  Baltimore  for  a 
few  days  after  his  adjustment  of  Charles' 
affairs,  to  select  for  those  at  home  Christinas 
presents.  The  season  for  such  remembrances 
had  arrived,  and  it  would  not  do  for  him  to 
return  without  taking  some  gift  to  each  ex- 
pectant one.  Every  face  would  be  darkened 
if  he  came  home  empty-handed,  and  his  wel- 
come would  be  anything  but  cordial.  He  knew 
this,  and  made  arrangements  accordingly ;  for 
each  member  of  the  family,  down  to  the  tiniest, 
he  purchased  some  precious  love-token. 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYEE.  Ill 

Oh,  these  joyous  Christmas  days!  To  the 
heart  of  a  child  their  advent  is  the  harbinger 
of  joy.  For  the  mature  they  also  have  attrac- 
tions. We  love  to  see  others  made  happy, 
even  though  it  be  by  the  presentation  of  only 
a  child's  trinket.  Our  hearts  are  lighter  as  we 
look  at  the  little  ones  in  their  Christinas  frolics; 
and  we  recall  the  time,  long  past  it  may  be, 
when  we  were  children,  and  greeted  the  merry 
Christmas  season  with  bounding  hearts.  We 
remember  how  rapturously  we  gazed  on  the 
heavily-laden  tree;  how  we  danced, and  hopped, 
and  skipped  again  in  very  wantonness  of  glee. 

The  heart  must  be  cold,  aye,  cold  unto  death, 
that  does  not  feel  the  glow  of  warmth  shed  by 
the  brightly  burning  Christmas  log!  In  the 
city  the  pleasant  chimney  fire  is  no  more,  but 
even  if  more  modern  ways  be  had  of  keeping  out 
old  King  Frost,  we  can  still  in  fancy  bring  back 

"  The  days  of  yore, 

When  our  fathers  kept  the  Christmas  time 
And  burned  the  Yule  that  is  no  more. 

"When  walls  of  hall  and  hut  were  hung 
With  ivy  and  with  holly  boughs; 
And  minstrels  went  from  house  lo  house, 
And  all  night  long  their  carols  sung. 

"When  jolly  dancers  shook  the  floor 
With  country  reels,  which  fiddlers  played; 


112  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

And  many  a  little  man  and  maid 
At  blind-man's  buff  and  battle  door, 

Peopled  the  corners  with  delight; 
The  old  folks  sat  at  fox-and-goose, 
And  let  their  tongues  and  fancies  loose 
In  tales  of  lords  and  ladies  bright. 

And  then  the  world  of  solid  cheer, 
In  meats  and  drinks  for  rich  and  poor; 
The  meanest  kept  an  open  door, 
For  Christmas  came  but  once  a  year." 

Father  returned,  bringing  his  treasures,  and 
we  hailed  him  with  glad  huzzas.  Our  gifts 
were  stowed  snugly  away,  we  were  not  even 
permitted  to  see  the  contents  of  the  mysterious 
packages ;  but  we  feasted  our  imagination  on 
what  they  might  contain.  We  listened  eagerly 
to  father's  account  of  Charles  and  his  new 
home.  "We  thought  his  adventures  had  been 
marvellous,  and  we  wondered  if  he  would  have 
as  good  a  time  as  we  knew  we  should  when 
Christmas  came. 

When  the  day  arrived,  and  we  all  were  as- 
sembled to  eat  the  Christmas  dinner,  we  missed 
our  absent  brother  ;  but  we  knew  he  had  found 
friends,  and  our  only  regret  was  that  he  could 
not  be  with  us  to  share  our  mirth  and  feasting. 
We  wanted  him  to  help  us  to  welcome  the  ad- 
vent of  old  Santa  Clans,  the  patron  saint  of  all 
good  children  everywhere. 


MARY    A.    NIkMEYER.  113 

"When  evening  had  closed  in,  and  the  lamps 
were  lit,  we  gathered  round  our  well-filled 
bush,  and  to  each  were  given  the  pretty  things 
that  had  been  placed  there  for  them  by  loving 
hands.  Again  we  missed  our  brother.  Thus 
it  is  at  all  times,  joy  with  regret  is  blended. 
From  our  family  chain  one  link  was  missing, 
and  the  thought  would  come  back  to  us  in  our 
gayest  hours.  Yet  we  were  happy,  though  a 
single  pleasure  was  withheld.  We  had  no 
sympathy  with  those  who  in  dismal  tones  would 
croak, 

"The  merry  Christmas  days  are  past, 
The  antique  plenty  is  no  more." 

Our  heart  was  with  "the  living  present;" 
and,  ever  when  the  rolling  seasons  should 
bring  round  the  joyous  Christmas  time,  we 
hoped  to 

"Feast  until  the  tapers  shine 
And  day  is  dead  and  curfews  toll." 


10 


114:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  One  sorrow  which  throws 

Its  bleak  shade  alike  o'er  our  joys  and  our  woes; 
To  which  life  nothing  darker  or  brighter  can  bring,^ 
For  which  joy  has  no  balm  and  affliction  no  sting!" 

Moore. 

"Oh,  how  this  spring  of  life  resembleth 

The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day, 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 
And,  by-and-by,  a  cloud  takes  all  away!" 

Shakspeare. 

"What  can  we  not  endure, 
When  pains  are  lessened  by  the  hope  of  cure?" 

NabVs  Microcosmus. 

"How  disappointment  tracks 
The  steps  of  hope!" 

Landon. 


"Who  finds  not  Providence  all  good  and  wise, 
Alike  in  what  it  gives,  and  what  denies?" 

Pope's  Essay  on  Man. 

The  cloud  that  for  a  long  time  had  been 
darkening  my  sky,  was  now  fast  shutting  the 
sunlight  out  forever.  My  sight  was  rapidly 
failing.  I  could  scarcely  see  well  enough  to 
distinguish  objects.  Deep  shadows  were  gath- 


MART   A.    NIEMEYER.  115 

ering  over  everything  in  Nature.  I  felt  that 
it  was  my  doom  to  sit  in  perpetual  darkness. 
Physicians  all  agreed  in  the  opinion  that  my 
sight  could  not  be  restored,  and  the  unwelcome 
intelligence  bore  heavily  upon  my  spirits, 
already  much  depressed  by  the  overhanging 
dread  I  had  for  months  endured.  I  strove  to 
bear  with  resignation  the  fearful  affliction  now 
so  surely  in  store  for  ine.  The  dispensation 
seemed  severe,  yet  I  tried  not  to  murmur.  I 
felt  as  if  life  would  be  only  a  period  of  suffering. 
The  outer  world  was  being  hid  from  me,  yet 
God  had  sent  this  great  sorrow  to  me.  Tie 
knew  its  uses ;  I  must  wait  to  know. 

Notwithstanding  the  cause  I  had  for  being 
sad,  and  my  family, in  sympathy  with  me,  yet 
we  all  were  happy  in  every  other  respect. 
Peace  and  plenty  were  the  presiding  angels  of 
our  homestead.  There  was  but  the  one  sorrow 
to  mar  our  felicity.  Our  hearts  would  doubt- 
less be  too  surely  wedded  to  earth,  too  closely 
knit  to  its  fleeting  joys,  were  it  not  that  ever 
there  is  something  to  call  our  thoughts  away 
from  things  of  time  and  sense ;  something  to 
make  us  look  forward  to  a  home  where  bliss 
alone  doth  reign ;  where  no  sorrow  nor  pain 
cometh. 


116  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

Oil,  weary  hearts,  rejoice,  "  earth  has  no 
sorrow  which  heaven  cannot  cure."  Oh,  delvers 
in  earth's  alloy,  be  of  good  cheer,  in  heaven  the 
very  streets  are  paved  with  "pure  gold  like 
unto  clear  glass."  Oh,  ye  who  sit  in  darkness 
with  folded  hands  and  pensive  brow,  lift  up 
your  songs  of  everlasting  praise.  In  yon  city 
of  the  New  Jerusalem,  ye  have  no  need  of 
sun,  or  moon,  or  golden  candlestick,  for  there 
is  no  night  there.  And  ye  may  look  upon  the 
King  in  all  His  beauty,  throned  in  majesty,  and 
ye  may  see  Him  as  He  is.  There  will  be  no 
dimmed  vision,  no  orbs  obscured  ;  but  clearer 
sio-ht  than  was  ever  vouchsafed  on  earth  shall 

O 

be  given,  with  which  to  gaze  through  all 
eternity  upon  glory  ineffable,  and  the  faces  of 
the  loved  lost  for  a  time  to  earthly  contem- 
plation. 

Father  us.ed  every  means  to  improve  the 
condition  of  my  eyes,  A  number  of  physicians 
had  been  consulted,  but  with  no  encouragement 
that  a  healthy  restoration  cou!4  be  hoped  for. 
It  was  thought  by  some,  perhaps,  I  might 
retain  imperfect  vision  for  years,  provided  I 
did  not  tax  my  sight  by  reading  or  study. 

I  had  been  under  careful  medical  treatment 
for  two  years,  but  without  improvement. 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  117 

When  a  very  little  girl,  a  slight  humor  had 
appeared  on  my  head,  of  this  I  had  been 
relieved,  but  the  disease  had  settled  in  my  eyes 
and  was  the  cause  of  my  eventual  loss  of  sight. 
One  day  a  stranger  who  had  been  overtaken 
by  a  storm,  took  shelter  in  our  house.  He 
observed  the  inflamed  appearance  of  my  eyes, 
and  inquired  of  father  the  cause.  Father 
explained  to  him  the  symptoms  that  had  from 
time  to  time  been  developed,  and  he  also  told 
the  visitor  he  feared  a  total  loss  of  sight  was 
inevitable.  Our  guest  thought  not  so ;  he  said 
he  knew  a  remedy  which  could  not  fail  to 
arrest  the  inflammation  ;  then  the  eyes  would 
be  entirely  well  again.  This  was,  indeed, 
joyful  intelligence;  and  as  every  previous 
remedy  had  failed,  we  hoped  this  might  be 
successful.  It  was  to  apply  red  precipitate,  a 
poisonous  preparation  of  mercury,  mixed  with 
unsalted  better,  to  my  eyes.  It  was  done  as 
the  stranger  had  said  it  should  be,  three  times 
a  day.  The  result  was  most  disastrous;  the 
calamity  of  my  life  was  hastened.  I  refer  to 
this  circumstance  that  persons  may  avoid  the 
use,  especially  under  conditions  of  so  serious  a 
character  as  those  peculiar  to  my  case,  of  any 
mere  quack  prescription.  "While  the  aid  of 


118  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

skilful  physicians  can  be  secured,  the  foolish 
advice  of  ignorant  men  and  women  should  not 
be  listened  to. 

Very  soon  after  the  application  of  the  pre- 
cipitate, I  found  I  could  not  distinguish  objects, 
con!  J  only  tell  day  from  night.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  my  loss  of  sight  was  occasioned  by 
following  this  man's  advice,  for  it  had  been 
decided  to  be  inevitable ;  but  all  who  knew  of 
its  use,  believed  the  evil  had  been  hastened. 
If  the  outer  world  were  to  become  a  blank  to 
me,  the  more  precious  every  moment  of  sight. 
This  can  only  be  appreciated  by  those  who 
have  suffered. 

When  it  became  a  fact  that  nothing  could 
be  done  for  me,  my  father  and  mother,  brothers 
and  sisters,  strove  to  make  home  the  more 
cheerful.  They  tried  to  lessen,  if  they  could, 
not  scatter  the  gloom.  "We  spent  many  happy 
hours  even  at  this  period,  though  they  moved 
hand  in  hand  with  sorrow.  My  sisters  and  I 
attended  Sunday  school  near  by,  located  in  the 
woods.  It  has  been  truly  said, 

"The  groves  were  God's  first   temples,  ere  man   had 

learned 

To  hew  tlie  shaft  and  lay  the  architrave, 
And  spread  tlie  roof  above  them ;  ere  he  framed 
The  lofty  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  119 

The  sound  of  anthems;  in  darkling  wood, 
Amidst  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down, 
And  offered  to  the  Mightiest  solemn  thanks 
And  supplication." 

This  quiet  little  church,  hid  away  in  the 
forest,  seemed  the  very  place  to  worship.  "  The 
proud  old  world  beyond "  was  shut  out,  and 
the  song  of  praise  or  voice  of  prayer  was  inter- 
rupted only  by  the  sweet  melody  of  bird, 
gently  purling  rivulet,  or  rustling  leaves,  as 
stirred  by  some  breeze  they  mingled  in  the 
anthem,  swelling  from  hearts  attuned  by  the 
harmonies  of  this  woodland  sanctuary.  Surely 
simplicity  finds  readiest  acceptance  in  the  eyes 
of  Him  who  was  all  meekness  and  humility, 
and  who  divested  Himself  of  His  kingly  glory 
and  became  man,  that  man  through  Him  might 
regain  the  image  of  his  Maker  so  sadly  scarred 
by  sin. 

I  have  often  dwelt  with  tender  memory  upon 
my  visits  to  this  forest  church,  with  its  rural 
architecture;  its  hard,  uncushioned  benches, 
with  their  high  straight  backs ;  its  plain  pulpit, 
with  no  gallery  for  its  choir,  and  no  organ  to 
make  vocal  the  woods  around ;  and  though 
I  have  heard  sweeter  music,  more  majestic 
symphonies,  I  have  never  heard  hymns  sung  in 


120  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

more  sincere  accord  with  the  pious  thought 
expressed.  We  build  our  churches  great  and 
grand,  emblems  they  may  be 

"  Of  boundless  power 
And  inaccessible  majesty." 

This  may  be  well  in  cities  full,  in  an  age  of 
progress ;  but  if  these  lofty  fanes,  with  sculp- 
tured domes  or  sky  kissing  spires,  leader  an 
instant  the  wayward  heart  from  teachings  it 
should  cherish,  they  are  nought.  Better  kneel 
by  the  roadside  or  on  Sahara's  sands  and  offer 
supplication,  than  worship  with  the  outward 
form,  while  the  senses  are  betrayed  by  any 
external  loveliness  from  that  inner  court  where 
God  himself  doth  reign. 

Thou  dear  rustic  Church  of  my  youth 
Where  were  gathered  lessons  of  truth, 
Long  shall  be  cherished  thy  form  as  of  yore, 
Thy  ungarnished  walls  and  dark  oaken  door. 

"When  weary  of  show  I  turn  to  thee  now, 
And  sincerely  renew  youth's  early  vow ; 
In  fancy  again  there  fall  on  my  ear 
The  tones  of  some  loved  one  in  prayer. 

A  memory  sweet  of  the  vanishing  past-, 
Thou  art  to  me,  too  lovely  to  last  ; 
And  each  leaflet  that  remindeth  of  thee, 
I  treasure  with  my  heart's  deep  sanctity. 


MAKT    A.    NIEMEYEK.  121 

As  Miss  Routzahn's  marriage  had  indirectly 
influenced  my  father's  business  prospects,  he 
concluded  to  carry  out  a  plan  he  had  for  some 
time  been  considering ;  he  wished  to  purchase 
a  medium  sized  property  and  settle  on  it  per- 
manently. It  was  further  his  intention  it 
should  have  grounds  sufficiently  extensive  to 
admit  his  having  a  fruit  and  vegetable  garden, 
as  he  intended  to  cultivate  these  for  the  Fred- 
erick market. 

He  had  not  felt  that  he  could  honorably  close 
his  engagement  with  Mr.  Eoutzahn ;  now  the 
turn  affairs  had  taken,  enabled  him  to  execute 
his  long-cherished  purpose.  He  succeeded  in 
purchasing  a  suitable  place ;  but  the  enterprize 
failed.  He  found  the  market  overstocked,  and 
could  not  secure  sale  for  his  produce.  He  dis- 
posed of  his  property,  and  removed  again  to 
the  village  of  Middletown.  He  here  secured  a 
situation  in  Mr.  Schlosser's  tannery.  This 
enabled  us  to  live  comfortably,  but  with  strict 
economy. 

Our  home  was  not,  of  course,  so  pleasant  as 
when  we  were  on  the  farm  ;  but  we  had  cheer- 
ful hearts  and  willing  hands,  and  readily 
accommodated  ourselves  to  our  new  mode  of 
living.  We  had  thought,  on  our  first  removal 
11 


122  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

to  the  country,  we  should  never  become  accus- 
tomed to  it.  We  had  always  resided  in  a 
village,  and  supposed  we  should  miss  the 
excitement  of  such  life;  but  we  had  been 
agreeably  disappointed,  and  now  felt  sorry 
to  leave  the  woods  and  fields,  with  all  the 
accompaniments  of  rustic  living.  We  should, 
however,  still  hear  the  song  of  birds,  the  low 
of  cattle,  and  even  the  peculiar  intonation  of 
the  frogs,  at  eventide ;  noisy,  truly,  but  still  a 
sort  of  fantastic  music  of  their  own,  a  contralto, 
it  may  have  been,  deepening  sometimes  into 
heavy  basso.  We  were  glad  of  this,  for  we 
had  learned  to  enjoy  every  description  of  rural 
pleasure. 

In  leaving  our  woodland  home,  we  should 
have  to  give  up  many  of  its  characteristic 
recreations  and  employments ;  yet  we  did  not 
intend  to  repine.  We  had  been  taught  to 
make  the  best  of  everything,  and  when  a 
change  of  circumstances  occurred  beyond 
our  control,  to  believe  all  was  for  our  good ; 
to  take  courage  from  the  wholesome  teach- 
ing— 

"When  thy  best  is  fully  done, 
Welcome  what  thou  canst  not  shun." 

So  we  accepted  our  lot  without  a  murmur, 


MAKY   A.    NIEMEYER.  123 

knowing  that,  although  we  would  not  have 
planned  it  thus,  had  we  had  it  in  our  power  to 
adjust  events,  yet  a  kind  Father  held  us  as 
the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand,"  and 
would  appoint  all  things  wisely. 

Resignation  is  a  lesson  we  must  learn  well, 
for  we  shall  need  the  grace  in  each  day's  expe- 
rience. Sacrifice  is  a  part  of  every  life,  indeed, 
enters  into  every  moment.  If  there  be  one 
principle  more  evident  than  another  in  any 
character,  that  has  attained  eminence  for  its 
real  excellence  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term,  it 
is  that  of  subduing  selfish  aims ;  and  while 
enjoying  what  is  felicitous,  enduring  what  may 
seem  unpropitious,  meekly. 

With  the  certain  prospect  of  the  constant 
need  of  this  spirit  of  self-abnegation,  would  it 
not  be  well  for  us  to  strive,  by  living  example, 
to  reconcile  those  by  whom  we  are  surrounded 
to  its  willing  acceptance?  It  will  save  many 
a  heartache,  and  many  a  bitter  struggle,  that 
otherwise  might  be  made,  calmly  to  abide 
issues  beyond  our  control. 


124  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day.  or  the  sweet  approach  of  e'en  or  morn, 
Or  light  of  vernal  bloom,  or  Summer's  rose, 
Oi  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine; 
But  clouds  instead,  and  ever  during  dark 
Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,  and  for  the  Book  of  knowledge  fair 
Presented  with  an  universal  blank." 

John  Milton. 

"Perfumes,  the  more  they're  chaf'd,  the  more  they  render 
Their  pleasant  scents ;  and  so  affliction 
Expresseth  virtue  fully,  whether  true 

Or  else  adulterate." 

John  Webster. 

"The  path  of  sorrow,  and  that  path  alone, 
Leads  to  the  land  where  sorrow  is  unknown; 
No  traveller  ever  reach'd  that  blest  abode, 
Who  found  not  thorns  and  briars  in  his  road." 

Cowper. 

The  remainder  of  my  simple  story  will  be 
from  a  "blind  girl's  pen.  I  will  not  harrow  the 
feelings  of  my  kind  and  sympathetic  reader 
with  an  attempt  to  tell  how  heavily  on  my 
heart  fell  the  sad  truth  that  I  was  blind.  God 
had  been  very  good,  and  would  be  still.  I 


MART   A.    NIEMEYEK. 

could  trust  Him,  although  my  way  henceforth 
would  be  utter  darkness,  yet  He  would  lead 
me,  and  my  feet  would  not  slide.  I  could  now 
plead  from  my  very  soul,  with  the  fervid 
eloquence  of  one  who  had  known  the  same 
struggles  with  the  same  mournful  result, 

"So  much  the  rather  thou,  celestial  Light, 
Shine  inward,  and  the  mind  through  all  her  powers 
Irradiate,  there  plant  eyes;  all  mist  from  thence 
Purge  and  disperse,  that  I  may  see  and  tell 
Of  things  invisible  to  mortal  sight." 

I  had  been  fortunate  above  a  number,  for 
the  priceless  boon  of  sight  had  been  mine 
during  the  first  twelve  years  of  my  life.  I  had 
remembrance  to  aid  me.  I  had  seen  Nature 
in  her  forms  of  beauty ;  had  looked  upon 
the  human  face  divine  ;  and  now  in  the  years  to 
come,  should  at  least  be  able  mentally  to  see 
these  again. 

I  have  since  learned  that  the  blind  have 
modes  of  communicating  with  the  outer  world, 
through  the  intensifying  of  the  other  senses. 
In  this  way  they  really  enjoy  life,  and,  as  a 
class,  they  may  be  considered  a  happy  people. 
They  are  known  to  participate  in  common 
recreations,  such  as  leap-frog,  touch,  hoop- 
bowling,  skipping  with  a  rope,  shuttlecock, 


126  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

marbles,  etc.,  and  even  the  sports  of  sliding 
and  snowballing. 

"We  are  told  of  a  certain  John  Metcalf,  who 
pursued  numerous  avocations  without  much 
hindrance  from  the  loss  of  sight.  As  a  boy,  he 
went  birds'-nesting  with  his  schoolmates ;  as  a 
young  man,  he  followed  the  hounds,  he  learnt 
to  swim  and  to  dive,  had  the  reputation  of 
being  a  good  boxer,  was  a  good  musician,  dealt 
in  woollen  goods,  and  also  in  horses,  established 
public  conveyances,  became  a  builder  and  con- 
tractor, built  bridges,  laid  down  roads,  made 
drains,  and  accomplished  some  difficult  engi- 
neering works  which  people  who  had  their 
sight  declined.  This  versatility  of  talent  is, 
of  course,  rare,  combined,  as  it  must  have  been, 
with  indomitable  energy  and  perseverance. 
Still,  it  goes  to  prove  that  blindness  need  not 
prevent  the  development  of  mental  or  physical 
activity. 

Then,  too,  there  are  interesting  accounts  of 
the  use  of  what  are  termed  the  unrecognized 
senses,  which  greatly  facilitate  the  communica- 
tion of  the  blind  with  external  objects.  Facial 
perception  is  remarkable  as  one  of  these.  "We 
are  told  of  a  Mr.  Levy,  who,  whether  within 
a  house  or  in  the  open  air,  whether  walking  or 


MART    A.   NIEMEYER.  127 

standing  still,  could  tell,  although  quite  blind, 
when  he  was  opposite  an  object,  and  could 
perceive  whether  it  were  tall  or  short,  slender 
or  bulky.  He  could  detect  whether  it  were  a 
solitary  object  or  a  continuous  fence-,  whether 
it  were  a  close  fence  or  composed  of  open  rails, 
and  often  whether  a  wooden  fence,  a  brick  or 
stone  wall,  or  a  quick-set  hedge.  It  is  said 
these  objects  were  perceived  through  the  skin 
of  the  face,  and  the  impressions  were  immedi- 
ately transmitted  to  the  brain.  Stopping  the 
ears  did  not  interfere  with  this  power,  so  the 
currents  of  air  could  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it,  but  covering  the  face  with  a  thick  veil  would 
destroy  it  altogether.  None  of  the  five  senses 
had  anything  to  do  with  it ;  hence  it  has  been 
termed  facial  perception. 

There  are  many  curious  illustrations  of  this 
faculty  recorded  ;  such  as  being  able  to  distin- 
guish shops  from  private  houses;  even  to  point 
out  doors  and  windows,  and  this  whether  the 
doors  be  shut  or  open  ;  to  detect  when  the  lower 
part  of  a  fence  is  brickwork  and  the  upper 
part  rails,  and  to  perceive  the  line  where  the 
two  meet ;  to  discover  irregularities  in  height 
and  projections,  and  indentations  in  walls. 
There  is  a  curious  story  related  in  confirmation 


128  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

of  this  faculty.  Mr.  Levy,  himself  blind  from 
earliest  infancy,  Director  of  the  Association 
for  Promoting  the  General  Welfare  of  the 
Blind,  and  a  resident  of  London,  England, 
narrates  the  following :  "  While  walking  with 
a  friend  in  Forest  Lane,  Stratford,  I  said, 
pointing  to  a  fence  which  separated  the  road 
from  a  field, <  those  rails  are  not  quite  as  high 
as  my  shoulder.'  He  looked  at  them  and  said 
they  were  higher.  We,  however,  measured, 
and  found  them  about  three  inches  lower  than 
my  shoulder.  At  the  time  of  making  this 
observation,  I  was  about  four  feet  from  the 
rails."  Certainly  in  this  instance  facial  percep- 
tion was  more  accurate  than  sight. 

A  similar  sense  belongs  to  some  part  of  the 
animal  creation,  and  especially  to  bats,  who 
have  been  known  to  fly  about  a  room  without 
striking  against  anything  after  the  cruel  experi- 
ment has  been  made  of  extracting  their  eyes. 
These,  and  similar  interesting  facts,  are  to  be 
found  in  a  well-known  work,  "  Blindness  and 
the  Blind,  or  a  treatise  on  the  Science  of 
Typhology."  By  W.  Hanks  Levy,  F.  R.  G.  S., 
London. 

Many  persons  entertain  erroneous  ideas  con- 
cerning the  blind.  They  seem  to  regard  them 


MART   A.    NIEMEYEK.  129 

as  unlike  other  people,  a  separate  and  distinct 
class  in  all  their  susceptibilities  and  endow- 
ments. They  speak  of  them  as  incapacitated 
for  many  pursuits.  From  some  they  may  be 
debarred,  it  is  true,  but  their  resources  and 
abilities  are  far  more  numerous  than  the 
unreflective  might  suppose.  Still  in  their 
helplessness  in  many  respects,  they  appeal 
strongly  to  those  more  fortunate  than  them- 
selves, and  while  to  be  regarded  with  pity  is 
extremely  galling,  a  tender  consideration  is 
always  grateful  to  them. 

What  may  be  done  for  the  blind  is  a  subject 
of  very  much  more  importance  than  the  general 
public  may  understand  it  to  be.  But  the 
humane  everywhere  have  joined  hands  to 
alleviate  suffering  in  this  form;  while  the 
thoughtful  and  judgmatic  are  endeavoring  to 
solve  this  problem  so  pregnant  with  good  or 
ill  to  those  whose  misfortune  it  is  to  be  blind ; 
and  strenuous  efforts  are  being  made  to  miti- 
gate, in  some  degree,  the  dreadful  calamity  of 
having  "  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut 
out,"  and  that  the  most  important  entrance. 

In  England,  France  and  America,  the  inter- 
est is  rapidly  on  the  increase,  and  much  careful 
thought  is  being  devoted  to  the  matter.  And 


130  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

from  the  worn  artisan,  whose  sight,  too  severely 
taxed,  has  faded  out ;  from  the  victim  of  pesti- 
lence ;  from  the  sufferer  from'  accident ;  aye, 
and  from  the  babe,  whose  heritage  has  been  a 
soul  shut  within  the  body's  portals,  is  arising 
one  united  voice  of  thankfulness  to  those  who 
have  espoused  their  cause.  God  will  lend  a 
helping  hand.  He  will  bless  and  crown  with 
full  success  all  such  heaven-directed  effort. 


MAKY   A.    NIEMEYER. 


CHAPTEK   XIV. 

"Great  minds,  like  heaven,  are  pleased 
In  doing  good." 

Rowe's  Tamerlane. 

"  In  faith  and  hope  the  world  will  disagree, 
But  all  mankind's  concern  is  charity  : 
All  must  be  false  that  thwart  this  one  great  end  ; 
And  all  of  God,  that  bless  mankind,  or  mend." 
Pope's  Essay  on 


"Thus  bravely  live  heroic  men, 

A  consecrated  band; 
Life  is  to  them  a  battle-field, 
Their  hearts  a  holy  land." 

Tuckerman. 

"'Tis  not  in  mortals  to  command  success; 
But  we'll  do  more,  Serapronius,  we'll  deserve  it." 

Addison's  Cato. 

Far  more  interest  has  been  shown  of  late 
years  in  the  education  of  the  blind  than  in  the 
past,  and  noble  men  and  women  have  addressed 
themselves  earnestly  to  labor  in  their  behalf. 
Institutions  are  multiplying,  and  are  successful 
beyond  expectation,  in  the  good  they  are 
accomplishing.  Ways  and  means  to  facilitate 
the  communication  of  knowledge  are  being 
carefully  studied. 


132  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Buildings,  spacious  in  themselves,  and  sur- 
rounded by  extensive  pleasure  grounds,  are 
now  appropriated. 

The  mental  and  physical  development  of 
this  class  of  persons  has  become  one  of  the 
benevolences  of  the  day.  And  no  more  mag- 
nanimous enterprise  could  be  offered  the 
humanitarian  than  such  a  field  of  labor. 
Citizens  of  large  heart  and  noble  sympathies 
are  actively  engaged  in  the  good  work,  and 
the  processes  for  assisting  the  blind  are  now  so 
thorough,  that  they  enjoy  facilities  for  obtain- 
ing easy  access  to  the  resources  of  literature, 
music,  and  to  any  of  the  mechanical  arts  for 
which  they  have  capacity;  indeed,  almost 
every  branch  of  industry  is  now  within  their 
reach.  All  are  afforded  opportunities  to  obtain 
a  thoroughly  scholastic  education,  and,  so  far, 
efforts  made  to  instruct  them  have  proved  that 
talent,  in  creditable  ratio,  is  found  among 
them.  This  movement  is  of  more  recent  date 
in  America  than  Europe,  and  has  not  reached 
the  advanced  ground  here  that  it  has  there. 
Still,  the  work  is  progressing. 

There  are  numerous  examples  of  rare  and 
exceptional  talent  among  the  blind  ;  nor  is  the 
larger  endowment  that  of  genius  without  a 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYER.  133 

goodly  number  of  representatives.  With  the 
acknowledged  types  of  these  two  classes  may 
be  identified  the  distinguished  blind  philolo- 
gist, Scapinelli,  one  of  the  most  accomplished 
scholars  of  his  day  ;  Count  de  Pagan,  who,  on 
becoming  blind,  devoted  himself  to  the  study 
of  fortification  and  geometry;  Dr.  Nicholas 
Saunderson,  who,  although  blind  almost  from 
his  birth,  lectured  upon  optics,  and  was  pro- 
fessor of  mathematics  in  the  University  of 
Cambridge ;  Sir  John  Fielding,  half-brother  of 
the  great  novelist,  and  Chief  Magistrate  of 
Bow  Street  Police  Court,  whose  "  acuteness  on 
the  magisterial  bench  may  have  been  equalled, 
but  has  never  been  surpassed ; "  Huber,  the 
eminent  naturalist,  who  invented  the  glass 
bee-hives  now  in  common  use  ;  nor  have  these 
examples  of  scholarly  excellence  and  practical 
adaptability  of  the  same  been  without  a  peer 
in  heroism  and  indomitable  will-power,  as 
shown  by  one  James  ITolman,  who  travelled 
without  an  attendant  through  a  large  portion 
of  Europe,  penetrated  five  thousand  miles  into 
the  Russian  dominions,  performed  a  voyage 
round  the  world,  and  actually,  on  one  occasion, 
saved  the  vessel  by  taking  the  helm. 

These  illustrations  are  somewhat  removed,  ' 


134  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

we  admit ;  but  we  are  not  without  promising 
indications  of  talent  and  usefulness  of  no 
ordinary  type  in  America.  Time  will  show 
creditable  results  compared  with  any  that  have 
been  cited.  Students  in  the  Institutions  in 
this  country  have,  upon  the  completion  of  the 
required  course  of  preparation,  been  admitted 
to  the  bar,  as  was  instanced  in  the  case  of 
James  B.  Green,  a  pupil  of  the  Baltimore 
Institution,  and  later  a  graduate  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Virginia,  a  gentleman  whose  fine  literary 
acumen  is  unmistakeable,  and  whose  com- 
mencement thesis,  with  "  Milton "  for  its 
subject,  was  forceful  in  style,  and  of  positive 
aesthetic  excellence. 

Poetry  has  been  aspired  to  in  no  ordinary 
sense  by  Morrison  Heady,  of  Kentucky,  whose 
productions  have  a  classic  ring  in  them,  and 
suggest  the  thought,  the  lyre  has  been  touched 
by  a  hand  so  skilful,  that  time  may  prove  the 
poet  to  have  been  in  his  earlier  efforts  a  master 
of  the  art  divine,  in  embryo,  whose  bolder 
nights  had  placed  him  on  Parnassian  heights. 

The  pulpit  has  not  been  without  representa- 
tives from  among  the  blind.  We  read  of  an 
eloquent  old  man  in  the  far  West,  Paul  Denver, 
who  held  enchained  unnumbered  hosts  he 


MAET   A.    NIEMEYEK. 


135 


never  looked  upon  ;  his  long  white  hair  sway- 
ing to  the  breeze,  his  whole  face  beaming  with 
emotion,  and  tears  reigning  from  his  sightless 
eyes,  as  he  plead  with  perishing  men  to  flee 
from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  find  redemption 
in  His  blood  who  died  on  the  cross  for  them. 
Nearer  home,  and  of  more  recent  distinction, 
is  William  Henry  Milburn,  who  has,  perhaps, 
no  superior  in  oratorical  finish  and  fervid 
eloquence.  As  a  lecturer,  also,  he  has  attained 
marked  celebrity.  His  travels  abroad  have 
furnished  varied  and  interesting  incident  for 
these. 

I  had  frequently  heard  of  Institutions  for 
the  education  of  the  blind,  and  when  the  last 
hope  for  the  recovery  of  my  sight,  even  par- 
tially, had  faded,  I  began  to  feel  an  earnest 
desire  to  secure  admission  into  one  of  these. 
My  love  for  knowledge  was  great,  and  besides, 
it  was  necessary  for  me  to  think  of  some  way 
in  which  I  could  earn  a  livelihood;  for  my 
father  had  met  with  reverses,  and  could  not  do 
much  for  me.  Then,  too,  the  probability  was 
I  should  outlive  my  parents,  as  my  health  was 
good,  and  I  was  still  very  young.  I  could  not 
bear  to  think  of  being  dependent  upon  the 
bounty  of  others,  therefore  I  was  the  more 


136  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

desirous  to  prepare  myself  in  some  way  to 
make  a  livelihood. 

There  were  serious  obstacles  before  me,  my 
parents'  means  being  limited.  I  supposed  it 
would  be  attended  with  great  expense  to  gain 
admission  into  such  Institution,  and  had  almost 
ceased  to  hope  for  the  consummation  of  my 
wishes.  My  great  need,  however,  made  me 
still  cling  to  the  possibility,  faint  though  it 
appeared. 

About  this  time  the  pupils  of  the  Baltimore 
Institution  for  the  Blind  gave  a  concert  in 
Frederick.  I  attended,  and  was  delighted  with 
the  music.  Both  the  vocal  and  instrumental 
performances  were  excellent.  I  now  determined 
to  make  every  effort  I  could  to  become  a  pupil. 
I  craved  an  education,  for  I  knew  without  it  I 
could  never  be  self-dependent,  and  this  was  my 
chief  ambition.  Two  gentlemen,  Mr.  Cole 
and  Mr.  Stoner,  had,  from  time  to  time, 
expressed  great  interest  in  me,  also  willingness 
to  aid  me,  if  in  their  power.  I  spoke  to  these 
friends  and  asked  them  to  counsel  me  as  to  the 
plan  by  which  I  should  proceed  to  arrive  at 
some  understanding  of  the  conditions'  under 
which  I  could  be  admitted.  Mr.  Cole  wrote  to 
Mr.  Keener,  who  was  at  that  time  Superintend- 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  137 

ent  of  the  Institution.  He  laid  my  case  before 
this  gentleman,  and  urged  that  my  wish  be 
considered  favorably.  Mr.  Stoner  had  been  a 
resident  of  Middletown  but  a  short  time.  He 
had  contracted  for  the  building  of  a  church, 
and  while  this  was  being  erected,  he  made  the 
place  his  home.  He  paid  frequent  business 
visits  to  Baltimore.  On  one  of  these  occasions 
he  called  at  the  Institution  and  had  an  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Keener,  who  spared  no  pains  in 
informing  him  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
blind  were  taught,  and  showed  him  all  the 
needed  appliances,  the  various  systems  of  teach- 
ing employed,  the  style  of  printing,  and  many 
other  interesting  features  of  the  Institution. 
He  was  very  courteous  and  affable,  and  the 
account  of  this  interview  increased  my  desire 
to  accomplish  my  long-cherished  purpose. 

During  a  second  visit  to  the  Institution,  Mr. 
Stoner  was  introduced  to  a  lady,  Miss  Mary  L. 
Day,  who  was  being  educated  there,  and  who 
spoke  in  the  warmest  terms  of  everything  con- 
nected with  the  place.  She  had  at  this  time  with 
the  aid  of  friends  prepared  her  biography,  and 
wras  finding  for  it  ready  sale.  The  book  was 
entitled  "  Incidents  in  the  Life  of  a  Blind  Girl." 
She  very  kindly  sent  me  a  copy,  and  I  found 
12 


133  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

it  pleasant  and  entertaining.     The  story  was  a 
simple  one,  yet  full  of  interest ;  and  by  its  sale 
Miss  Day  has  realized  a  moderate  competency. 
The  charitable  and  kindly  disposed  every- 
where would  be  likely  to  encourage  such  an 
effort.    A  life-history  may  be  very  plain,  perhaps 
uneventful,  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  term, 
but  if  it  has  been  blighted  by  a  great  sorrow, 
there  will  always  be  found  those  whose  hearts 
will  go  out  towards  the  stricken  one,  and  prac- 
tical sympathy  will  not  be  withheld.     How 
forcible  the  teaching  of  Paul,  in  his  letter  to  the 
Corinthians,  "  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  men  and  of  angels  and  have  not  charity,  I 
am  become  as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling 
cymbal;"  and  yet  again  he  dwells  upon  the 
theme— "Now   abideth   faith,  hope,   charity, 
these  three :  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity." 
This  shows  the  Apostle's  high  estimate  of 
this  principle  of  love  in  its  full  sense,  and  what 
a  cardinal  virtue  he  deemed  it  in  a  Christ-like 
character.    It  is  an  ornament  more  to  be  desired 
than   jewels   or  costly   apparel.      Golconda's 
rarest  germ  is  naught  compared  with  it.    Gold 
of  Ophir,  studded  with  liquid  diamonds,  pales 
before  it.     Pearls  from  the  depth  of  the  sea, 
though  gracing  a  coronet,  are  less  pure  thaD 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  139 

its  dewy  light.  No  words  are  eloquent  enougn 
to  express  its  true  beauty  ;  yet  we  may  wear  it, 
a  gift  from  Him  who  is  all  charity,  as  He  is 
love: 

"  True  charity,  a  plant  divinely  nurs'cl, 
Fed  by  the  love  from  which  it  rose  at  first, 
Thrives  against  hope,  and  in  the  rudest  scene, 
Storms  but  enliven  its  unfading  green ; 
Exuberant  is  the  shadow  it  supplies, 
Its  fruit  on  earth,  its  growth  above  the  skies." 

Beside  the  book,  Miss  Day  sent  me  a  oead 
basket  she  had  made.  It  was  ingeniously  con- 
trived— was  very  pretty  and  tasty.  These  gifts 
added  to  my  previous  desire  to  share  instruc- 
tions and  opportunities  of  every  kind  extended 
to  those  similarly  situated  with  myself.  I 
thought  if  I  only  knew  how  to  manipulate 
vari-colored  beads  as  Miss  Day  had  done  I 
should  be  glad,  and  could,  perhaps,  make  it  a 
source  of  revenue. 

To  writing  a  book  I  did  not  then  aspire ; 
but  Providence  opened  the  way  for  me,  and  in 
good  time  I  enjoyed  the  privileges  I  had  so 
longed  for. 


140  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XY. 

"Just  as  a  mother,  with  sweet  pious  face, 

Yearns  tow'rds  her  children  from  her  seat, 
Gives  one  a  kiss,  another  an  embrace, 

Takes  this  upon  her  knee,  that  on  her  feet; 
And  while  from  actions,  looks,  complaints,  pretences, 

She  learns  their  feelings  and  their  various  will: 
To  this  a  look,  to  that  a  word  dispenses, 

And  whether  stern  or  smiling,  loves  them  still, 
So  Providence  helps  all  our  wants, 
And  what  is  best  at  all  times  grants." 

Anon. 

"Now  ye  stand 

Eager  to  spring  upon  the  promised  land, 
Fair  ye  see  triumph,  pleasure,  fame  and  joy: 
Friendship  unwavering,  love  without  alloy, 
Brave  thoughts  of  noble  deeds  and  glory  won, 
Like  angels,  beckon  ye  to  venture  on." 

Frances  Kemble  Sutler. 

My  hope  was  strong,  and  I  could  not  help 
anticipating  a  favorable  result  to  my  wishes ; 
although,  as  yet,  there  had  been  no  very  prom- 
ising indications.  I  believed  I  should  secure 
admission  to  the  Institution,  by  what  means  or 
through  what  influence  I  could  not  foresee.  I 
knew  my  friends  were  zealous,  and  would 
leave  no  resource  untried  that  might  terminate 
fortunately. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER. 


14:1 


I  had  been  taught  "  faith  is  the  substance  of 
things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen,"  and  now  I  had  proof  of  this  lesson  of 
trust.  Mr.  Cole  received  an  answer  to  the 
letter  he  had  written  Mr.  Keener,  stating  that 
application  had  been  made  to  the  Governor  of 
the  State,  and  he  had  granted  the  privilege, 
and  had  furnished  the  necessary  legal  docu- 
ment upon  which  I  was  to  become  a  pupil  in 
the  Institution.  It  was  thought  I  had  best 
enter  at  once,  as  all  arrangements  had  been 
made. 

I  was  greatly  rejoiced  at  my  good  fortune, 
and  very  thankful  to  those  who  had  aided 
me  in  securing  it.  It  seemed  as  if  a  new, 
bright  future  had  suddenly  opened  before  me. 
Fancy  was  at  once  busily  engaged  picturing 
my  changed  circumstances,  the  opportunity  I 
should  have  for  improvement;  the  delightful 
intercourse  with  those,  like  myself,  deprived 
of  sight,  and  how  I  should  gain  strength  hear- 
ing of  their  victories.  My  affliction  had  made 
me  thoughtful  beyond  my  years,  and  I  weighed 
the  matter  well.  Heart  and  brain  were  full  to 
overflowing,  but  I  did  not  forget  that  my 
Heavenly  Father  had  bestowed  this  great 
blessing  upon  his  sightless  child. 


142  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Several  ladies  in  our  village  assisted  mother 
in  getting  me  ready  for  school.  They  were 
busy  for  a  few  days  refitting  my  wardrobe,  and 
seemed  so  glad  and  happy  that  I  was  going. 
The  surly  misanthrope  may  talk  of  selfishness 
being  dominant  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  may 
strive  to  make  any,  who  will  listen  to  his  miser- 
able croakings,  believe  that  true,  disinterested 
friendship  is  only  a  name;  but  he  will  not 
succeed,  save  with  churls  like  himself,  for  there 
are  too  many  evidences  to  the  contrary,  broad 
cast  o'er  the  earth.  All  around  us  are  the 
generous  and  the  true  who  love  to  do  a  kindly 
turn  for  friendship's  sake  alone,  with  no  slight- 
est tinge  of  sordid  motive  lurking  in  any  hidden 
corner  of  the  heart.  Not  with  a  passive  kind- 
liness are  they  content,  but  seek  active  means 
of  proving  their  good  will.  It  is  not  enough 
that  we  wish  well  to  others.  Our  feelings 
should  clothe  themselves  with  corresponding 
actions.  The  spring  which  has  no  outlet 
becomes  a  stagnant  pool,  while  that  which 
pours  itself  off  in  the  running  stream  is  pure 
and  living,  and  is  the  cause  of  life  and  beauty 
wherever  it  flows. 

Thanks  to  the  assistance  of  our  village  friends, 
I  was  soon  ready.     The  day  for  leaving  home 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  143 

arrived  ;  the  hour  of  parting  brought  its  strug- 
gle ;  it  was  different  from  anything  I  had 
known.  I  had  never  left  my  father  and  mother 
to  remain  away  any  length  of  time.  My 
mother  had  been  so  watchful  over  me,  I  did 
not  know  what  I  should  do  without  her  care. 
From  my  brothers  and  sisters  I  felt  loth  to  go, 
and  when  the  moment  came,  a  sensation  of 
dread  stole  over  me  lest  we  should  never  meet 
again.  We  all  experienced  a  degree  of  fear 
that  we  were  separating,  never  more  to  be  an 
undivided  family.  We  strove  to  shake  this 
foreboding  oif,  to  regard  the  event  as  one  al- 
together propitious,  and  to  believe  that  our 
family  group  would  again  be  formed,  with  each 
of  us  in  the  accustomed  place. 

Though  we  had  some  sad  thoughts,  yet  father, 
mother,  sisters  and  brothers,  were  happy  that 
I  was  going  where  I  should  be  able  to  garner 
stores  of  knowledge,  which  would  make  less 
solitary  my  darkened  path.  Mother  would 
doubtless  silently  grieve  that  in  my  helplessness 
she  could  not  be  near  her  stricken  child.  How 
precious  this 

"Mother-love,  unchilled  by  change, 
Absence  wide,  and  coldness  strange, 
Mother-love  that  here  must  yearn 
In  vain  for  its  full  return." 


144  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

I  knew  in  leaving  home  my  name  would  still 
be  a  household  word ;  and  I,  when  only 
strangers  were  round  me,  could  wander  back, 
and  by  the  spirit's  power  steal  into  their  midst, 
lay  my  hand  in  theirs,  take  the  vacant  chair 
beside  them,  could  again  bask  in  a  sister'a 
smile,  felt  if  not  seen,  and  fold  myself  con- 
fidingly away  in 

"  Sister-love,  so  calm  and  so  wise, 
Starlight  risen  on  darkened  skies." 

Memory  would  bring  them  to  me  at  eventide, 
at  the  matin-hour,  at  noon's  high  flush,  and 
when  sable  night  had  settled  on  the  earth,  and 
on  bended  knee  I  could  ask  "  Our  Father  "  to 
hold  in  tender  keeping  my  loved  and  distant 
ones.  I  could  pray  that  He  who  put  on 
humanity's  garb  and  knew  every  heart-throb 
of  sorrow  would  shield  them  from  all  harm: 

"O,  the  precious  privilege 

To  the  absent  given, 
Sending  by  the  dove  of  prayer 

Loving  words  to  heaven  ! 
Arrows  from  the  burning  sun 

Cleave  the  quivering  air, 
Swifter,  softlier,  surer  on 

Speeds  the  dove  of  prayer, 
Bearing  from  the  parted  lips 

Words  of  tcnd'rest  love, 
Warm,  as  from  the  heart  they  gush'd 

To  the  throne  above!" 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  145 

Yery  precious  are  these  home  affections; 
earth  would  be  a  dreary  waste  without  them. 
Our  hearts  would  be  desolate,  did  they  not  feel 
other  hearts  had  need  of  them. 

"None  may  name  a  drearier  thought, 
Hearts  we  lean  on  need  us  not. 
If  they  ask  for  us  no  more, 
Gathering  in  heaven's  affluent  store, 
Life  is  lonelier  than  we  knew, 
Sharper  anguish  thrills  death  through: 
In  this  rubbish-heap  of  earth 
Hides  no  pearl  heaven's  saving  worth." 

Our  souls  may  wing  their  flight  through 
illimitable  space,  and  nestle  at  home.  This 
makes  the  poignancy  of  separation  less,  and  we 
can  smile  through  our  tears  as  the  bright  sun 
of  an  April  day  looks  through  raindrops, 
setting  forth  the  truth  that  our  lives  are  two- 
fold in  their  kind. 

After  a  few  hours'  travel,  father  and  I  arrived 
in  Baltimore.  As  it  was  early  in  the  day,  we 
went  immediately  to  -the  Institution.  We 
were  cordially  received  by  the  Superintendent. 
He  greeted  me  as  a  member  of  his  family, 
this  made  me  feel  at  home.  "We  first  visited 
the  girl's  department.  All  welcomed  me  kindly, 
and  expressed  great  pleasure  that  I  was  to  be 
one  of  their  number.  I  felt  that  I  should  be 
18 


146  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

contented  and  happy  with  such  warm-hearted 
associates.  I  was  next  introduced  to  Miss  Bond, 
the  matron  of  the  Institution.  This  lady  had 
such  a  pleasant  address,  was  so  winning  in 
manner,  that  I  was  attracted  to  her,  and  was 
impressed  we  should  be  excellent  friends. 

I  knew  I  should  love  my  home ;  everything 
was  so  bright  and  cheerful ;  and  time  proved 
iny  conclusion  correct  in  every  particular. 

A  concert  took  place  in  the  evening.  Father 
remained,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  hearing 
some  good  music,  which  I  also  enjoyed  greatly. 
The  attendance  was  large,  and  everybody 
appeared  well  entertained.  The  laughing 
chorus  gave  the  most  pleasure,  judging  from 
the  applause  with  which  it  was  received.  You 
would  scarcely  have  thought  blind  people  could 
have  been  as  excessively  merry  as  the  hearty 
laughter  in  this  song  made  them  appear.  The 
mirth  was  contagious,  and  the  guests  joined  in 
chorus  with  the  performers. 

For  the  blind  there  is,  perhaps,  no  greater 
enjoyment  than  that  afforded  by  the  harmony 
of  sweet  sounds.  It  is  to  them  a  language  full 
of  sentiment.  They  discover  great  apti'tude  in 
learning  music.  It  becomes,  in  many  instancess 
a  mode  of  earning  a  comfortable  living.  This 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK. 


147 


being  the  case,  the  art  receives  much  attention 
in  all  institutions  for  the  education  of  this 
class.  A  generous  proportion  of  time  is  de- 
voted to  piano  instruction,  and  due  regard  is 
also  paid  to  the  violin  and  flute.  Concerts  are 
given  weekly,  and  the  pupils  succeed  in  making 
them  very  interesting  to  visitors. 

Exhibitions  of  their  skill,  before  the  Legis- 
lature, have  appealed  strongly  to  the  sympa- 
thies of  that  body,  and  aid  has  been  secured 
in  the  form  of  liberal  appropriations  for  the 
general  advancement  of  the  pupils. 
'  Father  delayed  a  few  days  in  the  city,  in 
order  to  cheer  and  encourage  me  if  I  should 
become  home-sick.  But  I  had  already  found 
friends,  and  did  not  feel  that  those  by  whom  I 
was  surrounded  were,  a  short  time  before, 
strangers.  I  seemed  to  have  known  and  loved 
them  a  long  while.  He  was  delighted  to  see 
me  so  satisfied,  and  bade  me  good-bye  less  re- 
luctantly than  he  would  have  done  if  I  had 
been  unwilling  to  be  left. 

He  charged  me  to  be  diligent  in  all  my 
studies,  but  to  pay  especial  attention  to  my 
music.  We  then  parted ;  a  momentary  sad- 
ness stole  over  our  hearts,  but  it  was  only  a 


148  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

passing  cloud,  behind  which  the  sun  was 
brightly  shining.  My  home  promised  well, 
and  it  was  best  I  should  be  separated  from 
those  very  dear  to  me  for  awhile. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  149 


CHAPTEK  XYI. 

"I  go  to  seek  my  own  hearth-stone 
Bosomed  in  yon  green  hills  alone; 
A  simple  lodge  in  a  pleasant  land, 
Whose  groves  the  frolic  fairies  planned, 
Where  arches  green  the  livelong  day 
Echo  the  blackbird's  roundelay," 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

"  There's  beauty  all  around  our  paths,  if  but  our  watch- 
ful eyes 

Can  trace  it  midst  familiar  things,  and  through  their 
lowly  guise, 

We  may  find  it  where  a  hedge-row  showers  its  blos- 
soms o'er  our  way, 

Or  a  cottage  window  sparkles  forth  in  the  last  red 
light  of  day. 

Yes,  beauty  dwells  in  all  our  paths,  but  sorrow,  too, 

is  there; 
How  oft  some  cloud  within  us  dims  the  bright  still 

summer  air ! 
And  yet  'tis  by  the  lights  and  clouds  through  which 

our  pathway  lies, 
By  the  beauty  and  the  grief  alike  we  are  training  for 

the  skies." 

FeUcia  Hemans. 

Almost  a  century  since,  prompted  by  the 
solicitations  of  a  benevolent  lady  who  employed 


150  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

her  whole  life  in  efforts  to  alleviate  the  wants 
of  the  blind,  M.  Hany  made  an  appeal  to  his 
countrymen,  which  resulted  in  the  establish- 
ment of  one  of  the  largest  institutions  for  the 
blind  in  Europe. 

This  gentleman  invented  a  method  of  print- 
ing books  for  the  use  of  the  blind  in  embossed 
characters.  The  paper,  when  properly  pre- 
pared, was  laid  upon  the  type,  which  had  been 
previously  set  upon  a  frame  for  the  purpose. 
A  pressure  was  then  made  upon  the  paper, 
which  gave  the  letters  in  relief  on  the  opposite 
side.  These  letters  could  be  distinguished  by 
the  touch  with  almost  as  much  precision  as 
those  printed  in  the  ordinary  method  can  be 
perceived  by  the  eye.  Books  prepared  in  this 
way  had  but  one  inconvenience — that  of  their 
extreme  bulk.  Subsequent  improvements, 
however,  have  considerably  reduced  their  size. 
And  though  a  given  amount  of  matter  occupies 
a  much  larger  surface  of  paper,  and  one  volume 
printed  in  the  common  way  makes  two  or 
three  when  prepared  for  the  blind,  still  when 
we  consider  the  benefits  that  flow  from  an  in- 
vention displaying  so  much  skill  and  benevo- 
lence, such  a  defect  is  of  trifling  importance. 

The  more  difficult  task  of  teaching  the  blind 


MAKY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  151 

to  write  is  accomplished  by  simple  contrivances. 
The  writing  board  is  formed  by  pasting  on  a 
piece  of  paste  board  of  the  size  of  a  common 
sheet  of  paper,  strips  of  the  same  material, 
forming  parallel  lines  about  half  an  inch  from 
each  other.  This  board  is  placed  under  the 
paper,  and  the  finger  is  then  drawn  along  upon 
the  surface,  so  as  to  press  it  in  the  grooves  or 
between  the  lines.  The  pupil  is  then  taught 
to  form  the  letters  with  a  common  lead  pencil. 
After  writing  a  word,  he  measures  with  the 
forefinger  of  the  left  hand  the  space  to  be  left 
between  the  words.  Thus  by  this  simple  pro- 
cess is  gained  for  the  blind  all  the  advantages 
that  are  conferred  upon  seeing  persons  by  the 
ruled  paper. 

The  apparatus  employed  in  the  study  of 
arithmetic  is  simple  and  effective.  It  consists 
of  a  slab  of  brass,  cast  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
be  divided  into  some  hundreds  of  holes;  into 
these  holes  are  inserted  types  representing  the 
same  figures  that  are  used  by  seeing  persons. 
In  this  way  the  blind  student  is  enabled  to 
cipher  with  as  much  facility  as  a  seeing  one. 

The  study  of  geography  is  pursued  by  the 
aid  of  maps  and  globes  adapted  to  the  touch. 
The  maps  are  made  of  wood,  with  indentations 


152  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

representing  rivers,  lakes,  gulfs,  bays,  channels, 
&c.  The  mountains  are  designated  by  being 
rough  and  slightly  raised,  and  the  boundary 
lines  of  States,  the  principal  cities  and  towns, 
are  marked  by  pin  heads,  the  pins  being  driven 
into  the  map. 

In  this  age  of  progress  these  various  plans 
are  being  constanly  improved  upon  and  many 
obstacles  are  being  removed  from  the  tho- 
rough education  and  development  of  the  blind. 

A  joint  committee  from  the  General  As- 
sembly of  Maryland  visited  the  Institution, 
located  on  Saratoga  street,  the  property  for- 
merly owned  by  Mr.  Konig.  A  thorough 
examination  was  made  of  the  various  depart- 
ments, and  each  received  much  commenda- 
tion. In  their  report  they  recommended  an 
appropriation  to  aid  in  procuring  more  suit- 
able buildings  for  the  further  prosecution  of 
the  philanthropic  plan.  In  order  to  give  the 
Legislature  an  opportunity  of  judging  more 
correctly  of  the  merits  of  the  blind,  the  pupils 
soon  after  visited  Annapolis  and  gave  a  concert 
in  the  Legislative  Hall. 

Some  ten  years  previous  it  had  been  proposed 
establishing  an  Institution  for  the  education 
of  the  blind  of  the  State.  The  plan  was  to 


MAEY   A.    NIEMETEB.  153 

create  a  fund  for  the  purpose  before  referred 
to,  and  after  strenuous  effort  the  accomplish- 
ment of  the  proud  design  was  effected.  Through 
the  praiseworthy  action  of  the  Legislature  at 
that  time,  by  which  that  Honorable  Body  ap- 
propriated the  handsome  sum  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  and  the  appropriation  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  by  the  City  Council  of  the  previous 
year,  in  addition  to  the  funds  already  accu- 
mulated, those  interested  were  enabled  to  com- 
mence plans  on  such  an  improved  and  liberal 
scale  as  must  meet  the  wants  of  the  State  for 
many  years  to  come. 

The  structure  erected  on  Boundary  Avenue 
is  the  result  of  this  effort,  and  is  at  once  a 
credit  to  the  State  and  an  ornament  to  the 
city.  Its  comforts  are  as  ample  as  its  accom- 
modations. It  is  healthy  and  commanding  in 
location,  and  is,  in  every  respect,  a  worthy 
expression  of  the  philanthropy  of  Baltimoreans. 

This  beautiful  home  was  received  by  the 
blind  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  gratitude 
and  humble  thanks  to  Almighty  God  who  had 
put  it  into  the  hearts  of  the  people  to  carry  out 
so  good  and  great  a  work. 

During  the  first  years  of  my  stay  in  Balti- 
more, brother  Charles  was  still  there.  He  was- 


154  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

in  the  cigar  business,  and  was  succeeding 
beyond  his  expectations.  Mr.  Gaehle  had  been 
unfortunate  in  business,  had  failed,  and  shortly 
afterwards  had  died.  Mrs.  Gaehle  had  gone 
West.  How  many  and  what  unlooked-for 
changes  cross  our  paths.  We  lay  plans  for 
future  fulfilment,  and  lo !  when  the  future  has 
become  the  present,  they  are  nought.  It  is 
fitly  said,  "  Man  proposes,  God  disposes."  And 
we  have  the  thought  in  another  form  from 
Shakspeare's  pungent  pen : 

"There  is  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  as  we  will." 

Whatever  our  aims  may  be,  they  are  ever 
overruled  by  One,  who  in  His  omniscience, 
knows  the  end  from  the  beginning.  The 
unthinking  call  it  destiny,  and  tell  us  we  are 
but  toys  in  the  fickle  goddess'  hands ;  but  it  is 
a  higher  power  that  governs  all.  He  moulds 
our  lives  as  He  wills.  How  vain  our  murmur- 
ing, even  in  the  little  things  of  life,  the  sparrow's 
fell,  the  bending  blade  of  grass  fanned  by  an 
infant's  breath — God  is  in  all  and  over  all. 

Charles  had  looked  forward  to  a  long-con- 
tinued relationship  with  his  friend  and  bene- 
factor; but  it  was  otherwise  ordained,  and 


MARY   A.    KIEMEYER  155 

doubtless  wisely  so,  though  to  him  inscrutable. 
"What  a  lesson  may  be  learned  when  we  see  a 
prosperous  man,  one  upright  in  his  daily  walk, 
suddenly  stricken  by  death  !  The  warning  is 
being  constantly  afforded  us,  but  in  the  hurry 
of  the  hour  we  too  often  pause  not  to  consider. 

My  brother  frequently  called  on  me  at  the 
Institution,  and  this  made  it  seem  even  more 
homelike.  I  had  been  at  school  about  six 
weeks  when  the  vacation  came  round.  Charles 
took  me  home  to  spend  the  Summer  months 
with  our  family.  This  was  very  pleasant.  The 
prospect  had  lessened  the  pain  of  separation, 
and  with  bounding  heart  I  hastened  to  my 
mother's  side,  that  I  might  narrate  my  many 
experiences  since  last  at  home.  All  were  glad 
to  greet  us,' and  our  return  was  celebrated  with 
great  rejoicing. 

It  is  a  trite  expression,  the  form  of  which  is 
almost  worn  out, "  there  is  no  place  like  home;" 
but  the  poet,  himself  homeless,  was  "  faithful 
and  far-seeing"  in  so  simply  expressing  the 
touching  sentiment.  Hearts  have  throbbed 
with  renewed  life  at  the  eloquent  syllables,  and 
eyes  have  moistened  while  lips  tremblingly 
repeated  them. 


156  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

"There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 

Our  hearts  in  hours  of  ^rief, 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 
Joy's  visits  when  most  brief." 

Man  may  wander  the  whole  earth  o'er ;  may 
find  his  way  through  the  swamps  and  junglee 
of  distant  Africa ;  may  cool  his  fevered  brow 
in  the  waters  of  the  open  polar  sea ;  or  lave  his 
limbs  in  limpid  waves,  'neath  a  Southern  sky ; 
he  may  greet  the  sun  as  he  looks  forth  in  morn- 
ing light,  or  track  him  to  his  nightly  couch 
behind  the  gold-fringed  curtains  of  the  West ; 
yet  his  wanderings  o'er,  the  spot  where  his 
mother  first  sung  a  lullaby  to  soothe  him  to 
sleep,— even  the  cradle  in  which  he  slept  in 
baby-in uocence, — will  have  a  charm  that  noth- 
ing else  can  rival.  He  may  have  tried  to  think 
the  world  his  home,  and  live  the  life  of  the  gay 
cosmopolitan  ;  but  when  he  has  exhausted  every 
other  source  of  interest  or  affection,  he  will 
turn  to  the  little  room  where  his  childish  prat- 
tle first  fell  on  a  mother's  ear,  or  he  felt  a 
father's  proud  caress. 

"By  the  soft  green  light  in  the  weedy  glade, 
On  the  banks  of  moss  where  thy  childhood  play'd ; 
By  the  household  tree  through  which  thine  eye 
First  look'd  in  love  to  the  summer  sky, 


MAEY    A.    NIEMEYER.  157 

By  the  dewy  gleam,  by  the  very  breath 
Of  the  primrose  tufts  in  the  grass  beneath, 
Upon  thy  heart  there  is  laid  a  spell, 
Holy  and  precious;  oh,  guard  it  well! 

By  the  sleepy  ripple  of  the  stream, 

Which  hath  lulled  thee  into  many  a  dream, 

By  the  shiver  of  the  ivy-leaves 

To  the  wind  of  morn  at  thy  casement  eaves, 

By  the  bees'  deep  murmur  in  the  limes, 

By  the  music  of  the  Sabbath  chimes, 

By  every  sound  of  thy  native  shade, 

Stronger  and  dearer  the  spell  is  made. 

By  the  gathering  round  the  winter  hearth, 

When  twilight  call'd  unto  household  mirth; 

By  the  fairy  tale  or  the  legend  old 

In  that  ring  of  happy  faces  told ; 

By  the  quiet  hour  when  hearts  unite 

In  the  parting  prayer  and  the  kind  "good-night; 

By  the  smiling  eye  and  the  loving  tone, 

O'er  thy  life  has  the  spell  been  thrown. 

And  bless  that  gift,  it  hath  gentle  might, 
A  guardian  power  and  a  guiding  light; 
It  hath  1.-J  the  freeman  forth  to  stand 
In  the  mountain  battles  of  his  land; 
I;  hath  brought  the  wanderer  o'er  the  seas 
To  die  on  the  hills  of  his  own  fresh  breeze ; 
And  back  to  the  gates  of  his  father's  hall, 
It  hath  led  the  weeping  prodigal. 

Yes,  when  thy  heart  in  its  pride  may  stray 
From  the  pure  first-loves  of  its  youth  away; 


158  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

When  the  sullying  breath  of  the  world  would  come 
O'er  the  flowers  it  brought  from  its  childhood's  home; 
Think  of  thy  sports  at  thy  father's  door, 
And  the  kindly  spell  shall  have  power  once  more." 

I  had  much  to  tell  when  I  reached  home, — 
the  daily  mode  of  life  at  the  Institution,  the 
studies  we  had,  and  our  various  other  occupa- 
tions— for  all  of  which  I  found  ready  listeners. 
They  never  seemed  to  weary  hearing  what  I 
had  passed  through  while  absent  from  them; 
the  process  by  which  we  learned  to  read ;  how 
we  were  instructed  in  music;  and,  besides, 
many  employments  useful  and  ornamental," 
with  which  we  were  made  familiar,  such  as  the 
making  of  fancy  baskets  with  beads,  knitting, 
crocheting,  and  ever  so  many  other  handicrafts. 
Then  our  amusements  and  our  expedients  for 
physical  exercise  were  recounted.  All  these 
subjects  were  extremely  interesting  to  them, 
and  many  a  long  Summer  day  was  beguiled  of 
its  tediousness  by  their  narration. 


MARY    A.    NIEMETEK.  159 


CHAPTER   XYII. 

"Unto  this  harvest  ground 

Proud  reapers  came, 
Some  for  that  strirring  sound, 
A  warrior's  name: 

Some  for  the  stormy  play, 

And  joy  of  strife, 
And  some  to  fling  away 

A  weary  life." 

Felicia  Hemans. 

"No  more  the  drum 

Provokes  to  arms,  or  trumpet's  clangor  shrill 
Affrights  the  wives,  or  chills  the  maiden's  blood; 

But  peace  and  plenty  open  to  the  view. 

Philips. 

"  Talk  not  of  comfort,  'tis  for  lighter  ills ; 
1  will  indulge  my  sorrows,  and  give  way 
To  all  the  pangs  and  fury  of  despair." 

Addisoris  Cato. 

Father  was  frequently  in  receipt  of  letters 
from  my  cousin,  Louis  F.  Koester,  who  had  for 
some  years  been  residing  in  Charleston,  South 
Carolina.  He  had  become  wealthy,  and  desired 
brother  Fred  should  live  with  him.  Cousin 
Louis  was  a  wholesale  grocer,  and  he  thought 
it  would  be  a  good  opening  for  Fred,  if  he 


160  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

would  become  a  clerk  in  his  store.  It  appeared 
an  advantageous  opportunity,  and  father  ac- 
ceded to  the  proposition.  When  vacation  was 
over  I  returned  to  school,  and  Charles  and 
Fred  accompanied  me  to  Baltimore.  Fred  left 
the  day  following  for  Charleston. 

In  a  short  time  the  war  between  the  South- 
ern and  Northern  States  broke  out.  All 
communication  by  mail  was  cut  off,  and  we 
were  sadly  distressed.  Could  we  have  foreseen 
this  event,  we  should  not  have  been  willing  for 
Fred  to  go  South.  "We  now  feared  we  should 
not  see  him  or  hear  from  him  for  a  long  time. 
The  suspense  would  be  painful,  and  we  deeply 
regretted  the  separation. 

We  waited  long  and  anxiously  for  intelli- 
gence. Two  years  after  the  opening  of  the 
war,  the  Southern  troops  entered  Maryland. 
We  hoped  to  find  Fred  among  them.  We  had 
learned  that  he  had  enlisted  in  the  army  early 
in  the  struggle.  After  the  battles  of  Antietam 
and  South  Mountain,  he  came  home.  The 
meeting  was  a  joyful  one ;  we  had  dreaded  lest 
we  should  hear  of  his  death.  But  he  had  been 
spared,  and  was  restored  to  his  family  once 
more.  I  was  not  at  home  to  participate  in 
the  welcome  and  the  thanksgiving  upon  his 


MART   A.    NIEMEYER.  161 

return;  but  lie  wrote  to  me,  and  his  letter 
made  me  feel  as  if  I  were  with  them  all.  We 
had  prayed  that  he  might  be  spared,  when  the 
bullets  rained  thick  around  him,  and  the  air 
was  full  of  death.  "We  had  thought  of  him 
anxiously  and  tearfully  when  he  could  hear 
only  the  roar  of  the  loud-mouthed  cannon,  the 
sharp  clash  of  steel,  or  the  mixed  din  and 
clangor  of  the  battle-field.  But  he  had  been 
preserved ;  the  God  of  battles  had  shielded  him. 
He  had  several  times  been  in  the  thickest  of 
the  fight.  He  had  seen  comrade  after  comrade 
fall  at  his  side ;  had  heard  their  death-moan, 
and  caught  the  last  faint  message  of  love  for 
the  dear  ones  at  home;  then  he  had  dashed 
again  into  the  fight,  leaving  dying  friends  to 
their  fate.  Such  is  dreadful  war. 

Fred  pictured  many  of  the  harrowing  scenes, 
which  he  had  witnessed.  The  recital  drew 
tears  from  eyes  that  were  not  often  suffused 
with  emotion's  tender  moisture.  He  also  de- 
scribed the  fascination  a  battle  had  for  the 
combatants.  The  listeners  almost  held  their 
breath  in  terror,  while  he  seemed  to  see  only 
glory  in  the  terrible  encounter.  These  things 
were  written  to  me,  and  very  vivid  letters  they 
were.  Mother  and  Fred  both  tried  to  give  me 
14 


162  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

every  detail  as  I  could  not  be  with  them  to 
hear  for  myself.  I  felt  surprised  that  my 
brother  had  made  so  many  hairbreadth  escapes 
and  yet  had  come  through  all  uninjured,— 
surely  he  had  been  most  mercifully  preserved. 
I  felt  how  good  God  was  to  take  care  of  him 
and  send  him  back  to  us. 

For  two  summers  during  the  war  both  armies 
made  raids  through  Middletown  Valley,  laying 
waste  its  green  fields,  and  scattering  havoc 
everywhere.  The  people  met  with  great  losses ; 
their  various  stores  of  grain  for  home  con- 
sumption were  exhausted.  What  a  fearful 
thing  is  war,  though  it  comes  with  colors  flying 
and  with  the  merry  sound  of  drum  and  fife. 
Orphaned  children  and  wailing  widows,  sad 
mothers  and  lonely  sisters,  mingle  their  lament 
with  the  shout  of  victory. 

In  September  of  1862,  the  Southern  Army 
made  the  first  raid  into  the  Valley.  The  in- 
habitants were  greatly  alarmed,  as  terrible 
disasters  had  everywhere  followed,  for  the 
people  upon  whom  the  incursions  were  made. 
Many  men  fled  from  their  families  into  other 
States  for  fear  of  being  forced  into  the  army. 
In  a  few  days  the  village  and  the  country 
around  were  filled  with  soldiers ;  the  rattle  of 


MARY  A.    NIEMEYEB.  163 

artillery  and  the  general  confusion  that  ensued 
changed  the  usual  character  of  the  quiet  place 
and  made  it  a  very  Bedlam.  They  demanded 
rations,  which  were  given  as  far  as  the  people 
had  it  in  their  power.  The  men  offered  to  pay 
for  what  they  received,  but  they  had  only 
Confederate  money,  which  was  of  no  value  in 
the  Valley.  In  less  than  a  week  the  Union 
Army  made  its  appearance.  The  Southerners 
proceeded  westward  to  South  Mountain,  three 
and  a  half  miles  from  Middletown.  They  had 
a  skirmish  a  short  distance  from  the 'village 
which  compelled  the  people  to  take  refuge  in 
the  cellars,  while  the  shells  were  flying  over- 
head. Some  few  soldiers  were  killed,  but  no 
serious  results  followed  to  the  residents 

Early  next  morning  the  battle  of  South 
Mountain  commenced.  Both  armies  fought 
vigorously  all  day.  The  noise  and  smoke  of 
cannon  were  overpowering.  The  people  were 
greatly  terrified  and  the  whole  scene  was 
appalling.  The  armies  then  proceeded  to 
Antietam  where  the  fight  was  renewed,  last- 
ing two  days.  The  dead  and  dying  were 
brought  back  to  our  village,  now  marred  by 
war's  devastating  power.  They  were  placed  in 
the  churches,  school-houses,  in  private  dwel- 


164  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

lings,  and  in  the  barns  of  the  residents.  Those 
who  had  "  fought  their  last  fight "  were  laid 
away  in  their  nameless  graves;  while  the  liv- 
ing were  tenderly  cared  for  by  the  hospitable 
villagers. 

The  noble  kindness  of  the  people  left  a  last- 
ing impression  upon  those  who  lived  to  return 
to  their  homes  in  the  different  States,  and  in 
many  instances  their  grateful  remembrance 
was  shown.  In  the  summer  of  1864  a  second 
raid  was  made,  again  by  the  two  armies  in 
succession,  and  resulted  in  the  almost  utter 
impoverishment  of  the  people.  The  farmers 
were  stripped  of  their  stock,  their  horses,  their 
grain,  indeed  the  place  once  so  nourishing  was 
left  a  barren  waste.  After,  however,  the 
armies  had  crossed  the  Potomac  into  Virginia, 
calm  was  restored,  and  every  effort  was  made 
to  repair  the  damage  that  had  been  done. 

Many  a  soldier  with  tearful  eye  will  speak 
of  those,  who,  like  the  good  Samaritan,  poured 
oil  into  his  wounds ;  lifted  him  when  fallen 
by  the  wayside;  then  sent  him  with  gentle 
wishes  to  his  distant  home. 

"War  is  a  costly  thing,  not  alone  in  a  coun- 
try's gold,  flung  wide  by  every  boom  from  the 
cannon's  throat;  not  alone  in  the  embellish- 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  165 

ments  that  make  up  its  tinselry  and  show ;  not 
alone  in  the  lives  that  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the 
bloodthirsty  god  ;  but  in  the  wrecked  hopes  of 
those  who  sit  at  home  in  loneliness,  and  whose 
wrung  hearts  have  been  wholly  given  up  to 
sorrow  and  deep  despair.  This  is  the  cost  of 
war,  too  often  the  price  paid  for  peace.  "We 
may  here  recall  the  sad  plaint  of  one  heart 
robbed  of  its  treasures ;  nor  will  we  overpaint 
the  picture. 

"  A  woman  paced  with  hurried  step,  her  lone  and  dreary 

cell; 
The  setting  sun,  with  golden  ray,  upon  her  dark  hair 

fell, 
Which  lay  disheveled  on  her  breast  and  many  a  shred 

of  gray, 
Wound  midst  those  tresses— sorrow's  gift,  while  on 

her  breast  they  lay. 

She  murmured  disconnected  strains,  as  to  and  fro  she 

paced, 
And  wildly  beamed  her  piercing  eye,  and  on  her  wasted 

face 
A  burning  flush  of  fever  glowed ;  then  rolled  the  lava 

tide 
Of  thought  from  those  thin  pallid  lips,  as  passionate 

she  cried ; 
"Peace,  peace,  they  tell  me  peace  has  come,  they  say 

the  war  is  o'er; 

The  battle-cry  the  shriek  of  death  shall  fill  the  land 
no  more« 


166  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

They  bid  my  heart  rejoice,  be  glad,  they  bid  my  tears 

to  cease; 
Yes,  yes  my  heart !  thou  shouldst  rejoice,  for  thou  hast 

paid  for  peace. 

Ah!  let  me  count  the  price  once  more,  for  fear  my 

lips  restrain 

The  faintest  note  that  they  should  give  to  that  rejoic- 
ing strain. 
I   had  a  son,  a  noble  boy,  just   entered  manhood's 

bloom, 
But  he  forgot  his  mother's  tears  when  first  the  cannon's 

boom 
Was  heard  upon   our   nation's  shores;   ah!  'twas  a 

magic  spell, 

And  gallantly  he  bore  our  flag,  and  gallantly  he  f 
I  never  saw  my  boy  again,  (they  say  my  tears  must 

cease,) 

But,  Herbert,  drop  for  drop  with  thine,  my  heart  pai 
blood  for  peace !" 

"Another  son,  a  stripling  boy,  who,  always  by  my  side, 
Frail  as  a  lily,  was  content  forever  to  abide ;  not 

eighteen 

Summers  had  I  nursed  with  all  a  mother's  care, 
This  tender  plant,  when  orders  came  my  only  child 

to  tear 
From  my  embrace ;  I  knew  he'd  die,  and  on  my  b 

knee 
I  begged  his  life;  besought  and  wept;  but  no,  it 

not  be ; 
They  bore  him  off.    He  never  met  the  foe  on  hill 

plain, 
But  drooped  and  died,  I  knew  not  where;  we  never 

met  again. 


MART   A.    NIEMEYEB.  167 

0  Willie,  with  thy  soft  blue  eyes!   Hush,  hush,  my 

heart  must  cease, 

Yet  darling  with  thy  dying  groans,  I  paid  in  part  for 
peace ! 

"Now  both  were  gone,  who  was  left?    None  but  the 

fond  true  heart 
Who'd  mingled  tear  for  tear  with  mine— he  who  had 

borne  a  part 

In  every  anguish  wild  which  still  my  bosom  rent, 
Whose  eyes  were  dim,  whose  hair  was  gray,  with 

nights  of  weeping  spent 
For  these  our  sons.    I  thought  that  we  through  all 

this  midnight  gloom, 
Would,  hand  in  hand,  walk  mournfully  together  to 

the  tomb. 

But  war,  insatiate,  claimed  him,  too;  I  saw  him,  too, 

depart, 
And  something  made  of  stone,  I  think,  was  given  me 

for  a  hrart ; 

1  could  not  weep  for  many  a  day;  I  was  alone, 
With  that  cold  weight  within  my  breast— that  heavy 

heart  of  stone. 

Tears  came  and  melted  it  at  last;  in  prison  far  away, 

Weary  and  worn,  uncared  for,  too,  he  languished  day 
by  day ; 

But  Herbert  and  our  Willie  came,  and  bade  the  cap- 
tive go ; 

They  broke  his  chains,  I  know  they  did,  the  angels 
told  me  so ; 

And  when  they  bore  his  soul  aloft,  and  bade  his  suf- 
ferings cease, 

I  paid  in  spirit  on  his  grave  all  that  I  owed  for  peace." 


168  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

"Must  I  rejoice?  perchance  I  might;  but  was  that  all 

the  price  ? 
Ah!  did  my  jewels,  did  my  tears,  my  broken  heart 

suffice  ? 

No!  count  upon  the  battle-field  ten  thousand  name- 
less graves ; 
Call  on  the  winds  for  sighs  and  groans;  go  tell  the 

ocean  waves 
To  bring  their  dead;  the  prison  walls  to  shriek  their 

sickening  tales. 
Concentrate,  if  you've  power  to-night,  widow's  and 

orphan's  wails; 
Heap  broken   hearts  on   broken   hearts,  till  pity  bid 

you  cease, 
ft.nd  then  you'll  have  not  half  the  price  that  we  have 

paid  for  peace." 

This,  it  is  true,  is  a  sketch  not  based  upon 
t&ct ;  but  its  counterpart  was  to  be  found  in 
many  a  home  when  the  roll  of  heavy  artillery 
had  died  off  to  a  whisper,  then  was  silent,  for 
the  contest  was  ended,  and  peace  was  won. 
There  are  bleeding  hearts  to-day,  and  purpose- 
less intellects,  whose  unwritten  history  if  told, 
would  be  as  thrilling  as  any  tale  of  woe,  imagi- 
nation's wildest  frenzy  ever  penned. 


MAKY   A.    NIEMEYEB.  169 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

"  True  happiness 

Consists  not  in  the  multitude  of  friends, 
But  in  the  worth  and  choice." 

JonsorCs  Oynt7iia's  Revels. 

"  There  are  moments  of  life  that  we  never  forget, 
Which  brighten  and  brighten,  as  time  steals  away ; 
They  give  a  new  charm  to  the  happiest  lot, 
And  they  shine  on  the  gloom  of  the  loneliest  day." 

/.  G.  Perdval. 

"  Long,  long  be  my  heart  with  such  memories  fill'd ! 
Like  the  vase  in  which  roses  have  once  been  distill'd, 
You  may  break,  you  may  ruin  the  vase,  if  you  will, 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still." 

Moore. 

"Life's  a  short  summer — man  a  flower, 
He  dies — alas !  how  soon  he  dies ! " 

Dr.  Johnson. 

The  South  had  suffered  greatly  by  the  war, 
and  business  prospects  were  so  unpromising 
that  brother  Fred  determined  not  to  return, 
but  to  try  and  find  employment  elsewhere. 
He  decided  to  make  an  effort  to  settle  in  Bal- 
timore. He  had  learned  watchmaking,  and 
concluded  now  he  would  make  practical  use  of 
his  knowledge.  With  this  object  in  view,  he 
15 


170  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

wrote  to  Charles  and  myself,  and  we  felt  glad 
to  have  another  of  our  family  near  us.  It 
made  the  place  still  more  homelike. 

About  this  time,  Mr.  Keener  resigned  the 
position  of  Superintendent,  the  office  being  too 
confining.     He  had   done  much  towards  ad- 
vancing the  general  prosperity  of  the  Institu- 
tion.    Among  the  many  improvements  he  had 
suggested  and  carried  into  successful  operation, 
was  the  securing  of  maps  adapted  to  the  use 
of  the  blind.     The  pupils  felt  indebted  to  him 
for  the  kind  personal  interest  he  had  in  them. 
He  had  always  been  friendly  and  considerate, 
and  was  in  every  respect  a  Christian  gentleman. 
In  retiring  from  the  Superintendency,  he  took 
with  him  the  warm  regards  of  all,  and  their 
kindest  wishes  for  success  in  whatever  path  in 
life  he  might  choose.      Sincere  prayers  from 
grateful  hearts  were  oifered,  that  his  future 
might  be  smiled  upon  by  Providence,  as  his 
past  had  been,  in  the  fruition  of  good  works. 
About  five  years  after  he  had  sundered  his 
relationship  to  us,  Mr.  Keener  accepted  the 
office  of  Superintendent  of  the  Navassa  Guano 
Island,  in  the  West  Indies.     And  on  his  return 
to  Baltimore  after  a  long  absence,  he  called  to 
see  me;  he  had  not  forgotten  me,  though  lie 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  171 

had  passed  through  such  varied  scenes  since  I 
was  under  his  care ;  I  appreciated  the  visit 
highly. 

It  is  with  deep  regret  that  I  note  the  recent 
death  of  this  gentleman.  On  the  9th  of  No- 
vember, 1872,  far  from  his  native  land,  among 
strangers  he  passed  away  from  earth. 

Many  tears  fell  when  the  sad  intelligence 
came — not  only  from  sightless  eyes : — He  was 
known  and  loved  at  the  Boys'  Home,  the 
Manual  Labor  School,  and  at  the  House  of 
Refuge.  He  died  at  the  age  of  forty-three 
years ;  little  more  than  mid  way  up  life's  rug- 
ged steep — but  if  the  works  of  a  life  mark  its 
period,  lie  had  attained  a  green  old  age. 

Upon  Mr.  Keener's  resignation,  Mr.  F.  D. 
Morrison  was  given  charge  of  the  Institution. 
He  entered  upon  his  duties  with  evident  earn- 
estness ;  and  showed  immediately  deep  interest 
in  our  welfare.  He  addressed  himself  with 
great  persistency  of  purpose  to  the  secur- 
ing of  more  complete  accommodations  as  well 
as  generally  more  commodious  arrangements 
for  the  pupils.  A  new  building  had  been 
talked  of  for  some  time,  but  its  accomplish- 
ment seemed  a  thing  of  the  indefinite  future. 
Our  new  Superintendent  felt  not  so,  and  set  to 


172  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

work  to  attain  the  desired  object  at  an  early 
day.  He  took  active  measures  to  secure  the 
result,  and  in  his  appeals  for  aid  was  untiring. 
In  a  few  years  our  new  home  was  completed. 
This  beautiful  edifice  is  located  on  Boundary 
avenue,  and  is  the  one  of  which  previous  men- 
tion has  been  made,  a  monument  of  benevo- 
lence in  the  City  of  Monuments. 

During  my  stay  in  the  Institution,  I  attended 
the  Third  Eeformed  Church,  of  which  Kev.  J. 
S.  Foulk  was  pastor.  I  connected  myself  with 
the  Sunday  school.  Mrs.  L.  Byrne  was  my 
teacher ;  this  lady  was  devoted  to  her  class,  and 
we  reaped  great  benefit  from  her  instruction 
and  advice.  Her  single  purpose  was  to  do 
good.  We  all  became  much  attached  to  her. 
She  tried  to  impress  on  our  youthful  minds  the 
duty  we  owed  Him  from  whom  we  received 
our  every  blessing.  She  plead  with  us  to  ob- 
serve how  great  His  loving  kindness  and  tender 
mercy,  though  He  chastened.  I  shall  never 
forget  how  she  strove  to  show  us  the  influence 
our  example  would  have  upon  others ;  and  how 
she  urged  us  so  to  live  that  we  might  be  pat- 
terns of  excellence  in  every  respect.  Had  we 
been  faithful  to  her  pious  teachings,  we  should 
have  made  fewer  crooked  paths  in  our  life-jour- 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  173 

neying.  Her  memory  will  ever  be  cherished 
gratefully  and  fondly.  Her  precepts  and  holy 
example  were  instruments  in  inducing  many  a 
little  one  to  strive  to  be  a  faithful  Christian. 

Dr.  Foulk  and  his  family  were  always  kind 
and  attentive  to  me.  They  visited  me  fre- 
quently, and  gave  many  practical  evidences  of 
their  solicitude.  -Remembrances  of  these  friends 
are  among  the  most  precious  of  my  life. 

While  a  pupil  in  the  Institution,  I  was  con- 
firmed, and  have  continued  my  membership  of 
the  Church,  so  tenderly  associated  with  the 
first  years  of  my  affliction.  Dr.  Foulk  has  since 
accepted  a  call  to  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania,  and 
is  there  esteemed  and  beloved  by  his  people  as 
lie  was  in  Baltimore.  I  doubt  not  he  will  have 
many  stars  in  his  crown  of  rejoicing,  when, 
earth's  labors  ended,  he  shall  put  on  immor- 
tality's robes. 

Quite  a  number  of  pupils  from  the  Institu- 
tion joined  the  school,  making  two  large 
classes.  Mrs.  Byrne  had  charge  of  the  girls, 
and  Mr.  Alfred  George  of  the  boys.  Both 
these  teachers  were  unremitting  in  their  ef- 
forts to  be  of  service  to  their  scholars;  and 
God  crowned  each  Sabbath  day  with  some 
mark  of  His  approval.  Mrs.  Byrne  and  Mr. 


174  AUTOBIOGBAPHY    OF 

George  regarded  it  a  privilege  to  be  eyes  for 
the  blind  in  their  search  for  the  truths  of  Holy 
Writ ;  and  with  glad  hearts  they  beheld  reli- 
gion's calm  and  peaceful  light  illumine  the 
faces  of  those  whose  outer  vision  obscured, 
could  yet  look  upon  the  glory  of  Him  who 
reigneth  on  high,  revealed  in  saving  grace. 

Mr.  George,  in  the  midst  of  his  usefulness, 
was  snatched  away  by  death.  At  his  grave 
there  were  no  sincerer  mourners  than  those 
who,  when  in  heaven  they  met,  should,  for  the 
first  time  see  the  friend  who,  as  an  honored  in- 
strument in  God's  hand,  had  shed  religion's 
pure  light  on  their  way.  Their  voices  were 
tremulous  with  emotion  as  they  joined  in  the 
exultant  strain, — 

"I  would  not  live  alway, 
No !  welcome  the  toinb ; 
Since  Jesus  hath  lain  there, 
I  dread  not  its  gloom. 
There  sweet  be  my  rest, 
Till  He  bid  me  arise 
To  hail  Him  in  triumph, 
Ascending  the  skies." 

Many  other  of  our  church  relationships  were 
of  a  kind  affectionate  character.  Members  of 
the  choir  aided  us  in  learning  anniversary 


MAEY   A.    NIEMEYER.  175 

hymns.  On  one  of  these  occasions  seventeen 
of  our  pupils  were  presented  each  with  a  copy 
of  the  Bible,  in  raised  letters.  This  was  a 
priceless  treasure  to  the  recipient,  dearer  the 
more  closely  we  studied  the  sacred  pages. 
Years  of  possession  could  only  add  to  its  value, 
for  as  the  cares  of  the  world  crowded  into  our 
lives,  where  could  be  found  surer  comfort  than 
in  the  sympathy  of  one  "  who  was  a  man  of 
sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief?"  Our 
gratitude  was  tearfully  expressed,  for  we  could 
but  weep,  though  our  hearts  were  full  of  glad- 
ness too. 

The  presentation  was  made  by  Francis  T. 
King,  President  of  the  Maryland  Bible  Society, 
the  friend  who  is  a  friend  indeed.  His  heart 
is  ever  ready  to  respond  to  humanity's  call. 
This  gentleman  is  ubiquitous  in  his  connection 
with  every  good  work.  He  is  indeed  remark- 
able for  his  ready  sympathy,  and  practical  aid 
in  all  the  charities  of  our  city.  God's  blessing 
must  surely  follow  him. 

The  gift  would  ever  be  a  treasured  reminder 
of  our  church  associations  as  well  as  of  the 
generous  donors  who  found  it  in  their  hearts 
to  bestow  it. 

I  frequently  received  letters  from  my  friend, 


176  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

Mr.  Cole.  He  counselled  me  to  be  diligent 
and  persevering,  warning  me  against  losing 
one  opportunity  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
Btrove  to  act  upon  his  advice,  and  found  jt 
greatly  to  my  advantage  to  do  so.  Mr.  Cole 
married,  and  during  his  wedding  tour  visited 
Baltimore.  He  and  his  wife  called  upon  me, 
at  the  Institution  ;  I  read  and  played  for  them, 
and  they  appeared  much  pleased  with  my  pro- 
gress. They  cordially  invited  me  to  spend  my 
next  vacation,  in  Shippensburg,  Pa.,  where  they 
were  to  reside.  Mrs.  Cole  was  very  affectionate 
in  manner,  this  won  my  heart  at  once,  par- 
ticularly as  her  husband  had  been  such  a  good 
friend  to  me.  She  had  a  sweet  voice,  which 
made  me  think  her  gentle  and  winning;  and 
her  pleasant  good-bye  fell  like  music  on  my 

ear. 

With  the  blind,  there  is  much  in  the  tone  of 
voice  to  attract  or  repel.  They  are  so  sensitive 
in  this  particular,  that  they  often  judge  char- 
acter from  this  special  endowment ;  and,  al- 
though it  may  seem  strange,  and  to  some  even 
incredible,  they  are  often er  accurately  im- 
pressed than  the  contrary.  It  is  natural,  if 
not  always  safe  to  conclude  that  a  voice  is 
influenced  by  the  impulses  of  the  heart.  A 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  177 

sweet  voice  is  always  a  grace.  A  low  voice  is 
eloquent  in  love,  in  sorrow,  or  in  despair.  A 
harsh  sinister  voice,  and  one  like  the  clicking 
of  a  steel  trap  are  unmistakeable  in  their  indica- 
tions. We  all  have  heard  tones,  whose  depth 
and  richness  were  the  signs  of  power,  either  of 
intellect  or  passion.  "A  still  small  voice " 
littered  "  peace  be  still,"  and  the  angry  waves 
of  Galilee  were  calm.  So  ofttimes  have  the 
subdued  tones  of  affection  quelled  the  rising 
storm  of  passion  in  the  human  breast,  and  bade 
it  "peace  be  still."  But  we  will  not  longer 
dwell  upon  the  varied  power  of  the  human 
voice.  It  was  God's  great  gift  to  man,  when 
he  breathed  the  breath  of  life  into  his  nostrils, 
and  man  became  a  living  soul,  endowed  with 
reason,  supreme  above  the  brute  creation  to 
whom  instinct  without  speech  was  assigned. 

Various  changes  had  taken  place  in  the 
Institution.  Prof.  H.  H.  Bruning,  one  of  our 
teachers,  a  gentleman  of  excellent  scholastic 
attainments  had  resigned,  intending  to  open 
an  Academy  of  his  own  in  Lancaster,  Pa.  He 
had  been  succeeded  by  Miss  Mary  Patrick, 
who  was  our  teacher  but  a  few  months,  when 
she  was  married.  We  rejoiced  in  her  happiness, 
as  she  had  endeared  herself  to  us  during  tho 


178  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

short  time  we  had  been  her  pupils.  Mrs.  Jane 
Arnold  had  been  connected  with  the  Institu- 
tion about  five  years,  when  death  removed  her 
from  us.  She  had  been  both  friend  and  teacher 
and  her  loss  was  deeply  mourned.  Thus  it  is, 
"  friend  after  friend  departs,"  and  we  miss  them 
from  our  midst.  There  must  always  be  one 
chord  to  sorrow  strung,  else  the  harmony  would 
be  incomplete.  The  sad  minor  key  is  the 
undertone  of  all  our  spirits'  lives,  and  it  has  a 
plaintive  charm  for  everyone,  even  if  heard  in 
youth's  gay  morning  hour. 

Prof.  Wm.  Harman  had  been  our  teacher 
of  music  for  some  time,  and  was  beloved  by  all 
the  pupils.  He  was  a  thorough  instructor,  and 
those  who  fulfilled  his  requirements  could  not 
fail  to  attain  proficiency.  Upon  his  resigna- 
tion, Prof.  Barrington  was  appointed  by  the 
Board  of  Trustees.  This  gentleman  enjoyed 
an  excellent  reputation,  which  he  has  since 
admirably  sustained.  The  progress  of  his 
pupils  has  been  of  the  most  satisfactory  char- 
acter ;  and  he  is  withal  very  genial  in  manner, 
calculated  to  win  the  friendly  regard  of  those 
whom  he  instructs,  as  well  as  their'  willing 
application  to  duty. 

The  positions  held  by  Mrs.  Arnold  and  Miss 


MART    A.    NIEMEYER.  179 

Patrick  when  left  vacant,  were  filled  by  Miss 
Emma  and  Miss  Louise  Yarnall  These  ladies 
were  eminently  fitted  for  the  responsibilities 
they  assumed.  Lovely  in  character  and  well 
qualified  as  teachers,  they  could  only  be  desir- 
able acquisitions  to  the  Institution  We  cher- 
ished fondly  the  memory  of  those  who  had 
providentially  been  removed  from  us,  yet,  wo 
could  but  feel  happy  in  our  new  relations. 


•J.80  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"  Human  life  is  chequer'd  at  the  best, 
And  joy  and  grief  alternately  preside." 


Tracy. 


"  Friendship  1  mysterious  cement  of  the  soul ! 
Sweet'ner  of  life,  and  solder  of  society  1 
I  owe  thee  much.    Thou  has  deserved  of  me 
Far,  far  beyond  what  I  can  ever  pay. 
Oft  have  I  prov'd  the  labors  of  thy  love; 
And  the  warm  effort  of  the  gentle  heart, 
Anxious  to  please." 

"  The  friends  thou  hast  and  their  adoption  tried, 
Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hooks  of  steel." 

SJiakspere's  Hamlet. 

"There  is  no  fount 
Of  deep,  strong,  deathless  love,  like  that  within 

A  mother's  heart." 

Mrs.  Hemaris  Siege  of  Valencia. 

While  many  changes  were  taking  place  in 
the  Institution,  in  my  family  also  events  had 
occurred  in  which  I  was  deeply  interested. 
Charles  had  removed  to  Charleston  and  had 
gone  into  the  grocery  business.  Fred  had 
married  and  was  living  in  Richmond, 
sister  Maria  had  married  and  settled  in  Balti- 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  181 

more.  Portions  of  our  family  were  now  liv- 
ing in  South  Carolina,  Virginia  and  Maryland, 
not  very  widely  scattered  it  is  true,  yet  we 
were  far  enough  apart  to  make  it  scarcely  prob- 
able we  should  be  again  ail  undivided  house- 
hold. We  should  henceforth  miss  some  who  had 
shared  with  us  the  joys  of  home.  Father  and 
mother  realized  this,  but  they  believed  all  to  have 
been  directed  by  a  kind  Providence,  for  bless- 
ings had  followed  their  children,  more  than  they 
had  asked.  To  each  it  is  true  "  some  days  had 
been  dark  and  dreary,"  still  there  had  been 
many,  many  bright  days  for  which  to  be 
thankful. 

Brother  Charles'  health  began  to  fail,  and  it 
was  thought  the  climate  possibly  did  not  suit 
him,  so  he  concluded  to  try  what  effect  a  trip 
North  would  have.  He  wrote  asking  Fred  to 
take  charge  of  his  business  for  him.  This 
arrangement  having  been  satisfactorily  made, 
he  started  on  the  proposed  trip.  He  visited  a 
number  of  places  and  received  great  benefit. 
He  remained  longest  at  Cape  May,  and  found 
the  sea  bathing  very  invigorating.  He  returned 
home  much  improved  in  health,  and  fearing 
to  lose  the  good  he  had  gained,  decided  not  to 
go  to  Charleston  again,  but  to  wind  up  his 


182  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

business  there  and  locate  in  Middletown.  At 
this  time  he  purchased  me  a  piano,  which 
generous  gift  was  most  acceptable,  for  I  had 
become  devotedly  fond  of  music  and  spent 
many  solitary  hours,  losing  my  sense  of  loneli- 
ness in  the  companionship  of  sweet  sounds. 

My  father  had  been  fortunate  in  business,  and 
was  now  able  to  purchase  property  in  Middle- 
town.  God  had  prospered  him,  and  he  enjoyed 
the  pleasant  prospect  of  being  able  in  his  old 
age  to  sit  down  under  his  "  own  vine  and  fig- 
tree."  It  is  sad  when  misfortune  and  vicissitude 
fall  on  any  lot,  but  saddest  of  all  when  they 
come  with  declining  years,  as  the  foot  begins 
to  step  tremblingly,  or  the  hand  be  unsteady 
in  its  palsied  grasp,  the  head  whitened  with 
the  frosts  of  many  winters,  and  the  form  bowed 
with  the  burdens  it  has  borne.  It  is  meet  that 
those,  who  have  been  spared  such  a  close  to  the 
toil  of  a  lifetime,  should  be  very  thankful. 
Father  felt  this,  and  night  and  morning,  at  the 
family  altar,  he  acknowledged  God's  bountiful 
goodness  to  him,  in  having  acknowledged  the 
labor  of  his  hands  so  abundantly. 

My  time  at  school  was  rapidly  drawing  to  a 
close.  I  had  been  in  the  Institution  nearly 
eight  years,  all  of  which  had  been  very  happy 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  183 

years,  and  so  swiftly  had  they  flown  I  could 
hardly  believe  them  more  than  months.  I 
had  made  many  dear  friends,  to  be  cherished 
while  life  should  last.  Nor  were  these  tender 
ties  formed  only  with  the  teachers  and  pupils, 
but  with  persons  outside.  Among  the  latter 
are  some  I  shall  ever  remember.  Mr.  William 
Ball's  family  were  kind  and  thoughtful  at  all 
times.  I  spent  many  happy  hours  with  them. 
One  sad  association  drew  me  near  them,  Little 
Ida,  a  pet  with  all  who  knew  her,  and  her 
grandpa's  darling,  a  fair-haired  child,  sprightly 
and  interesting  in  manner,  was  blind.  She  was 
born  sightless,  and  this  fact  appealed  strongly 
to  my  sympathy.  To  her  parents  it  had  made 
her  doubly  dear. 

Mrs.  Maynard  and  family  also  were  good 
friends  of  mine.  Indeed  these  two  families 
were  continually  studying  how  they  could 
contribute  to  my  comfort  and  enjoyment.  Nor 
did  they  forget  my  schoolmates,  but  in  many 
thoughtful  acts  and  attentions  added  to  their 
pleasures.  Yery  many  others  than  myself,  in 
all  the  future,  will  look  back  gratefully  upon 
their  kindly  offices.  These  allusions  are  very 
personal,  I  am  well  aware,  but  they  are  "green 
spots,"  and  are  refreshing  to  think  upon. 


184:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Yon,  gentle  reader,  will  pardon,  for  you  are 
not  following  a  life,  in  which  there  need  be  the 
observance  of  any  special  conventional  form, 
but  that  of  a  blind  girl ;  whose  heart  having 
known  sorrow  and  bereavement,  still,  as  the 
drooping  flower  drinks  in  the  dew  and  sun- 
light, then  rejoices,  accepts  the  bright  things 
of  her  lot  in  deep  thankfulness. 

I  was  soon  to  leave  my  home  in  the  Institu- 
tion and  the  friends  I  had  made,  while  there. 
Although  I  knew  my  parents  were  longing  for 
my  return ,  I  f el  t  reluctant  to  go.  A  new  world 
had  been  opened  to  my  inward  vision,  during 
my  stay  in  Baltimore.  My  plans  and  purposes 
had  materially  changed.  I  now  looked  forward 
to  usefulness  in  the  world,  not  in  any  wide  sense 
of  the  term,  but  according  to  my  ability.  I 
experienced  a  stimulus  in  living  I  had  not 
known  before,  and  which  bereft  of  sight  as  I 
was  I  should  never  have  been  aware  of,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  opportunities  of  mental  im- 
provement I  had  enjoyed. 

My  parents  anticipated  my  return  very  gladly. 
They  longed  that  I  should  again  be  with  them. 
Except  the  vacation  seasons  I  had  been  absent 
from  them  eight  years.  My  mother's  health 
was  much  impaired,  she  was  confined  to  her 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYER.  185 

room  a  great  part  of  the  time.  I  hoped  to  be 
of  some  service  to  her,  if  only  to  make  the 
hours  pass  less  wearily  by  telling  her  what  I 
had  learned  in  many  ways  since  last  with  her. 
To  an  invalid  even  the  minutes  drag  a  slow 
length  along  and  hours  and  days  seem  ages  if 
pain  rack  the  feeble  body.  I  thought  by  my 
music  to  interest  my  mother  and  call  her  at- 
tention sometimes  from  her  sufferings. 

It  is  a  holy  office  to  be  able  to  give  back  to 
a  mother  part  of  the  love  and  care  she  be- 
stowed upon  us  in  helpless  infancy.  It  is  a 
pious  trust  and  one  that,  well  fulfilled,  will 
bring  sweet  content  in  years  to  come,  when  the 
loved  one  may  be  sleeping  sweetly  beneath  the 
swaying  cypress  or  the  lilies  fair.  Mother- 
love  taken  from  us  can  never  be  replaced,  once 
lost,  it  is  forever  gone,  save  as  it  blooms  again 
in  Paradise.  Earth  is  lonelier,  home  is  void 
when  her  feet  have  stepped  into  the  river  of 
death.  Our  hearts  have  no  nestling  place  "  like 
the  bosom  first  pressed,"  if  her  heart  has  ceased 
to  beat ;  and  we  pause  on  life's  highway,  miss- 
ing the  guardian  angel  of  our  young  years,. to 
plead,  as  the  stilly  twilight  comes  softly  on, 

"Backward,  turn  backward,  oh  Time,  in  your  flight, 
Make  me  a  child  again  just  for  to-night; 
16 


186  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Over  my  heart  in  the  days  that  are  flown, 
No  love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone, — 
No  other  worship  ahides  and  endures, 
Faithful,  unselfish  and  patient  like  yours,— 
None  like  a  mother  can  charm  away  pain 
From  the  sick  soul  and  world-weary  brain." 

Well  may  we  cherish  the  precious  treasure, 
the  sweetest  boon  God  ever  gave ;  with  gentle 
care  enfold  the  wasting  form,  with  loving  hand 
guide  the  feeble  steps,  and  in  every  way  strive 
to  make  the  sunset  of  a  mother's  life  full  of 
beauty,  blending  tints  of  softer  light  with  those 
of  richer  loveliness.  Her  last  days,  even  if 
passed  in  bodily  anguish,  may  be  the  fullness 
of  joy  if  crowned  and  blessed  with  the  love  of 
her  children. 

Worse  than  the  brute  must  that  man  or 
woman  be  who  can  forget  the  sacred  duty,  of 
filial  care  and  tenderness  for  a  mother.  If  any 
eye  should  rest  on  these  pages,  which  if  turned 
inward,  finds  one  thought  of  disrespect  for  a 
mother's  counsel,  thrust  it  out,  for  it  is  a  dark 
spot,  that  when  the  pall  shall  have  been  settled 
on  the  dead  mother,  no  tears  of  regret  will 
ever  wash  out. 

The  hour  of  parting  from  my  school  friends 
came ;  I  can  never  forget  it.  My  heart  was 
deeply  stirred  for  I  was  sundering  relationships 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEK.  187 

not  again  to  be  entered  into.  I  was  leaving  a 
life  behind  that  had  been  full  of  genial  inci- 
dent to  take  np  another  that  must  have  sterner 
experiences  in  it,  than  any  period  of  the  past, 
as  I  should  try  the  world ;  and  its  lessons  are 
ever  hard  to  learn.  New  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities awaited  me.  The  occasion  was  to  me 
one  of  unusual  significance. 

My  associates  expressed  sorrow  that  we  were 
to  be  separated,  and  the  trembling  voice  indi- 
cated the  sincerity  of  their  words  of  parting. 
We  who  had  walked  so  long  together,  the  light 
of  our  faces  hid  from  each  other,  were  now  to 
take  a  divided  way.  We  had  looked  for  this, 
but  always  in  the  future ;  now  it  had  come, 
and  with  it  brought  its  trial.  Brother  Charles 
was  to  take  me  home ;  when  he  came,  I  bade 
a  last  and  tearful  adieu  to  the  Institution,  my 
teachers,  schoolmates,  and  friends.  The  years 
passed  there  were  henceforth  to  be  a  memory 
with  a  radiant  halo  round  it — "  a  joy  forever." 


188  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


CHAPTER   XX. 

"  The  dear  beatitudes  of  home, 
Within  the  heavenly  boundaries  come :     » 
The  hearts  that  made  life's  fragrance  here, 
To  Eden  haunts  bring  added  cheer ; 
And  all  the  beauty,  all  the  good, 
Lost  to  our  lower  altitude, 
Transfigured,  yet  the  same,  are  given 
Upon  the  mountain-heights  of  heaven." 

Lucy  Larcom. 

"  Do  not  forever  with  thy  veile'd  lids, 
Seek  for  thy  noble  father  in  the  dust ; 
Thou  know'st  'tis  common ;  all  that  live  must  die, 

Passing  through  nature  to  eternity." 

Shakspere. 

'  The  hearth,  the  hearth,  is  desolate,— the  fire  is  quenched 

and  gone, 
That  into  happy  children's  eyes  once  brightly  laughing 

shone, 
The  place  where  mirth  and  music  met  is  hush'd  through 

day  and  night, 
O  !  for  one  kind,  one  sunny  face,  of  all  that  here  made 

light ! 

******* 

The  father's  voice— the  mother's  prayer — though  called 

from  earth  away — 
With  music  ringing  from  the  dead,  their  spirits  yet  shall 

sway; 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  189 

And  by  the  past,  aad  by  the  grave,  the  parted  yet  are 

one, 
Though  the  loved  hearth  be  desolate,  the  bright  fire 

quench' d  and  gone." 

Felicia  Hemans. 

My  parents  were  rejoiced  to  have  me  at  home 
again.  My  mother  wept  for  joy,  I  wept  also, 
but  mine  were  tears  of  mingled  joy  and  sor- 
row. For  weeks  after  my  return,  I  thought  of 
scarcely  anything  else  than  the  Institution  and 
its  many  pleasant  associations.  My  father  sym- 
pathized with  me;  when  he  attended  the  mili- 
tary school  in  Germany,  he  became  much 
attached  to  it,  and  upon  leaving  felt  great  re- 
gret. My  parents  promised  me  I  should  visit 
Baltimore,  a  few  weeks  before  school  closed 
for  the  summer  vacation,  so  that  I  might  meet 
my  friends  again  before  they  left  for  their  va- 
rious homes.  This  delighted  me  and  I  felt 
more  reconciled  to  the  change  in  my  surround- 
ings and  mode  of  living. 

Mother  was  very  ill  during  the  following 
winter.  Sometimes  we  thought  she  could 
hardly  rally,  she  was  so  prostrated.  She  had 
no  fear  of  death,  but  appeared  to  look  for- 
ward to  it  as  a  happy  release  from  suffering. 
Her  perfect  resignation  was  a  great  comfort  to 
us  and  tended  to  allay  the  apprehension  we 


190  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

constantly  experienced.  When  Spring  came 
again,  her  health  improved  and  she  could  once 
more  go  out  of  doors  and  enjoy  the  invigorating 
sunlight.  This  was  a  great  happiness  to  us, 
and  we  grew  hopeful  of  a  still  further  re- 
covery. 

Brother  Charles  decided  to  make  another 
change,  this  time  he  concluded  to  go  West. 
He  intended  to  start  in  1he  tobacco  business. 
Thus  a  welcome  to  a  returning  member  of  our 
family  was  followed  by  a  fond  good  bye  to  one 
departing.  We  regretted  to  have  our  brother 
leave  us  but  it  seemed  for  the  best,  so  we  strove 
to  utter  no  word  of  discouragement,  but  to  bid 
him  "  God  speed  "  in  his  undertaking. 

According  to  the  promise  made  me  I  was 
soon  to  go  to  Baltimore,  the  Summer  was  rap- 
idly approaching,  and  when  it  had  surely  come 
I  was  to  be  again  for  a  short  time  with  my 
school  friends.  I  could  not  wait  patiently.  I 
started  two  weeks  before  the  close  of  the  schol- 
astic year.  I  had  a  most  delightful  visit,  all 
my  expectations  were  realized  and  I  had  looked 
forward  to  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  I  re- 
mained in  the  city,  a  few  weeks  with  my  mar- 
ried sister.  While  there  I  received  a  letter 
from  father  stating  mother  was  very  ill  and 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEB.  191 

that  he  feared  she  would  not  recover.  This 
was  painful  as  well  as  startling  news,  for  we 
had  thought  she  was  getting  better. 

To  add  to  ray  distress  I  could  not  at  once 
get  to  my  mother.  The  memorable  flood,  which 
occurred  at  this  time,  had  destroyed  the  rail- 
roads. I  was  compelled  to  remain  in  Balti- 
more, enduring  the  most  terrible  suspense. 

While  anxiously  waiting  for  the  means  of 
travel  again  to  be  available,  I  was  shocked  by 
the  receipt  of  a  despatch,  announcing  my  fa- 
ther's death.  This  was  a  most  unlocked  for 
event  and  overwhelmed  me  with  its  sudden- 
ness. We  could  not  believe  the  sad  intelli- 
gence. We  thought  there  must  have  been  a 
mistake  in  forwarding  the  telegram  and  that 
our  mother  was  meant.  In  his  letter  received 
but  a  short  time  before,  father  had  said  all  the 
family  were  well,  but  mother.  We  felt  sure 
an  error  had  been  made  in  wording  the  mes- 
sage. 

The  bridges  had  been  repaired  the  day  before 
we  received  the  despatch ;  so  we  started  for 
home  on  the  first  train,  in  this  uncertain  state 
of  mind,  and  weighed  down  with  sorrow  at 
our  affliction  in  either  event.  On  arriving  in 
Frederick,  sister  hired  a  conveyance  to  take  us- 


192  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

to  Middletown.  As  we  entered  the  house  I 
thought  I  heard  my  father's  voice  saying  "  the 
girls  have  come."  But  alas !  he  was  cold  in 
death.  He  had  no  welcome  for  us,  his  lips 
were  sealed  in  the  hush  of  everlasting  silence. 

Our  mother  was  lying  at  the  point  of  death. 
"We  found  a  number  of  friends  endeavoring  to 
comfort  her  in  her  heavy  bereavement.  Father 
had  been  stricken  suddenly  ;  when  attacked  he 
was  apparently  in  his  usual  good  health.  The 
severe  pain  he  endured,  cramped  his  body  vio- 
lently for  thirty  hours.  Besides  his  physical 
sufferings  his  mental  distress  was  most  poig- 
nant. My  uncle  was  with  him  and  grasping 
his  hand,  father  said — "  Oh,  dear  brother,  I  am 
going  to  die,  how  can  I  leave  my  afflicted 
family !  "  The  physician  strove  faithfully  but 
without  success  to  relieve  his  agony.  When 
Kev.  F.  A.  Eupley,  his  pastor,  prayed  that 
strength  might  be  given,  and  submission  to  the 
will  of  God  might  be  granted,  father  seemed 
resigned.  Three  hours  before  his  death,  he 
fell  into  a  deep  sleep  from  which  he  never 
awakened.  Mr.  Rupley  had  continued  pray- 
ing with  him  till  he  breathed  his  last.' 

Father  had  been  for  many  years  a  Christian, 
full  of  faith  and  good  works.  He  had  taken 


MARY   A.    NIEMETER.  193 

great  pains  to  teach  his  children  the  truths  of 
the  Bible,  and  had  by  an  upright  example  en- 
forced the  precepts  he  had  laid  before  them. 
In  disposition  he  had  always  been  kind  and 
gentle.  He  was  no  more  to  be  with  us,  the 
light  of  his  smile  had  gone  out.  Our  hearts 
were  appalled  with  the  magnitude  of  our  loss. 
So  suddenly  had  the  blow  fallen  that  we  could 
not  realize  we  were  fatherless.  It  was  as 
if  a  painful  dream  had  marred  our  pleasant 
slumber.  A  few  hours  only  had  passed  and 
the  hand  that  had  penned  warm  loving  words 
was  stiffened  in  death.  What  a  lesson  of  life's 
uncertainty,  how  brittle  the  thread  by  which  it 
is  held !  Our  mother  of  whom  he  had  written 
had  outlived  him,  she  so  long  an  invalid,  and 
he  strong  and  well,  hurried  to  the  grave.  The 
dispensation  was  most  mysterious,  one  we  could 
not  hope  to  comprehend,  till  in  Heaven  we 
know  God's  purposes ;  there  all  that  we  have 
not  understood  shall  be  made  plain. 

We  sorrowed  not  as  those  without  hope,  for 
We  knew  in  yon  celestial  country  we  should 
meet  our  earthly  parent  again,  a  ransomed 
spirit.  He  had  been  called  from  care  and 
strife  and  pain  to  rest  with  those  "who  had 
IT 


194:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

come  up  through  much  tribulation,  their  robes 
washed  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

"We  tried  to  compose  our  feelings  before  en- 
tering mother's  room,  lest  our  grief  might  add 
to  her  distress.  We  found  her  greatly  excited. 
She  had  talked  more  during  father's  brief  ill- 
ness than  she  had  during  month's  previous, 
and  as  a  consequence,  was  much  exhausted. 
Father's  sudden  death  had  severely  shocked 
her  nervous  system.  She  had  not  shed  a  tear 
but  her  deep  sorrow  was  evident.  She  strove 
to  bear  with  Christian  fortitude  the  trial.  When 
we  entered  the  room,  she  said — "  children  your 
father  was  dear  to  you  and  me,  but  God  has 
seen  fit  to  take  him  to  Himself.  We  are  sorely 
stricken,  but  God  will  comfort  and  sustain  us, 
we  must  trust  Him  fully." 

The  funeral  was  to  take  place  the  following 
morning.  Many  friends  carne  to  take  a  last 
look  at  the  face  of  the  departed.  Those  who 
stood  by  the  remains  of  our  father  drew  a  les- 
son from  the  silent  form;  it  taught  them,  oh 
how  forcibly,  that  "  in  the  midst  of  life  wo  are 
in  death ; "  and  they  turned  away  with  the  sol- 
emn thought  borne  in  upon  their  souls— "  be- 
hold in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not,  the  Son 
of  Man  cometh." 


MAKT   A.    NIEMEYER.  195 

Mother  had  not  seemed  able  to  comprehend 
the  whole  extent  of  her  loss  ;  at  first  it  stnnned 
her,  being  in  a  very  weak  condition.  She  became 
worse  than  she  had  been,  and  every  one  felt 
her  end  was  drawing  near.  She  was  too  feeble 
to  be  taken  in  to  see  father ;  even  the  sad  pleas- 
ure of  a  last  kiss  was  denied  her.  When  the  fu- 
neral was  about  to  leave  the  house,  she  desired 
to  be  moved  near  the  window.  She  looked 
out  with  tearful  eyes,  and  then  a  bright  smile 
played  upon  her  features  as  she  murmured  in 
low  sweet  tones  the  happy  thought — "  farewell 
my  husband,  but  a  little  while  and  I  shall  join 
you  in  your  heavenly  land  ;  we  shall  not  long 
be  severed,  this  is  my  great  consolation." 

The  remains  of  our  father  were  conveyed  to 
the  church,  where  the  Rev.  Mr.  R.  preached  a 
very  impressive  sermon  from  Mark,  13th  chap., 
37th  verse — "  What  I  say  unto  you,  I  say  unto 
all,  Watch."  After  the  ceremonies  were  ended 
at  the  church,  with  sad  hearts,  and  yet  not 
mourning  as  those  without  hope,  we  followed 
our  beloved  parent  to  his  last  resting  place. 
Having  reached  the  cemetery  we  laid  him  in 
the  grave,  then  slowly  returned  to  our  desolate 
home. 

A  few  days  after  my  father's  burial  we  saw 


196  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

that  mother  was  rapidly  failing.  She  asked  us 
not  to  mourn  for  her,  she  was  willing  to  die, 
for  she  would  then  be  united  again  to  her  hus- 
band. She  said  rather  than  grieve  that  she 
was  going  to  leave  us,  we  should  pray  for  her 
speedy  release  from  pain  that  she  might  find 
rest  in  Heaven.  Her  sufferings  were  great, 
and  there  seemed  to  be  no  alleviation  for  them, 
yet  in  the  selfishness  of  our  love,  we  could  not 
bear  to  give  her  up.  Now  that  we  had  lost 
father,  she  was  doubly  dear  to  us. 

After  an  interval  of  extreme  pain,  she  fell 
asleep,  and  so  continued  for  fourteen  hours. 
Every  effort  was  made  to  arouse  her,  for  we 
feared  it  would  prove  her  long  last  sleep. 
"When  we  succeeded  in  awaking  her,  she  ap- 
peared composed,  though  fully  aware  that  she 
was  passing  from  us.  She  recognized  all  around 
her,  smiled  lovingly  upon  us,  and  in  almost 
inarticulate  words  bade  us  meet  her  in  Heaven. 
Then  she  breathed  her  life  away  so  calmly  and 
sweetly — the  departing  spirit  faded  off  so 
slowly  that  only  by  the  changed  expression  of 
the  face,  the  loss  of  pain  and  the  quickly  fol- 
lowing heavenly  gleam,  could  we  tell  that  she 
had  gone  from  earth  to  join  the  loved  and  lost, 
in  a  better  land.  Her  prayer  was  answered 


MAKY    A.    NIEMEYER.  197 

that  she  might  not  long  be  separated  from  our 
father.  We  laid  her  beside  him,  then  left  the 
quiet  mounds ;  bereft  of  both  our  parents,  the 
once  dear  home  was  now  a  vacant  shrine. 

In  my  sightless  loneliness  I  should  find  all 
joys  less,  now  that  my  mother  could  no  longer 
cheer  me.  From  my  life  had  been  taken  its 
strong  stay,  and  ever  as  the  years  rolled  on  I 
should  mourn : — 

"The  May  sun  sheds  an  amber  light 

On  new  leaved  woods  and  lawns  between; 
But  she  who,  with  a  smile  more  bright, 
Welcomed  and  watched  the  springing  green, 
Is  in  her  grave, 
Low  in  her  grave. 

The  fair  white  blossoms  of  the  wood 

In  groups  beside  the  pathway  stand; 
But  one,  the  gentle  and  the  good, 
Who  cropped  them  with  a  fairer  hand, 
Is  in  her  grave,' 
Low  in  her  grave. 

Upon  the  woodland's  morning  airs 

The  small  birds  mingled  notes  are  flung; 
But  she  whose  voice  more  sweet  than  theirs, 
Once  bade  me  listen  while  they  sung, 
la  in  her  grave, 
Low  in  her  grave 


198  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

That  music  of  the  early  year 

Brings  tears  of  anguish  to  my  eyes ; 
My  heart  aches  when  the  flowers  appear, 
For  then  I  think  of  her  who  lies 
Within  her  grave, 
Low  in  her  grave." 

The  loss  of  a  mother  is  one  every  heart  is 
likely  to  experience ;  yet  this  does  not  make 
the  trial  less.  We  may  see  her  fade  daily,  but 
we  turn  from  the  painful  truth,  and  watching 
anxiously,  hail  with  a  thrill  of  joy,  hope's 
faintest  message. 

"  Oh  many  lips  are  saying 

Mid  falling  tears  to-day; 
And  many  hearts  are  aching  sore, 

Our  mother's  passed  away ; 
We  watched  her  fading  year  by  year, 

As  they  went  slowly  hy, 
But  cast  far  from  us  e'en  the  fear 

That  she  could  ever  die. 

She  seemed  so  good,  so  pure,  so  true 

To  our  admiring  eyes, 
We  never  dreamed  this  glorious  fruit 

Was  ripening  for  the  skies; 
And  when  at  last  the  death  stroke  came, 

So  swift,  so  sure,  so  true, 
The  hearts  that  held  her  here  so  fast, 

Were  almost  broken  too. 

We  robed  her  in  familiar  dress, 
We  smoothed  her  soft  hair  down, 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYEB.  199 

Gave  one  last  kiss,  then  laid  her  'mid 

The  autumn  leaves  so  brown; 
Then  each  took  up  the  b'roken  thread 

Of  life  and  all  its  cares, 
How  sad  the  thought  'mid  daily  tasks, 

We  miss  our  mother's  prayers. 

We  ne'er  shall  know  from  what  dark  paths 

They  may  have  kept  our  feet; 
Yet  holy  will  their  influence  be 

While  each  fond  heart  shall  beat: 
And  as  we  tread  the  thorny  way, 

Which  her  dear  feet  have  trod, 
Ever  shall  feel  our  mother's  prayers 

Leading  us  up  to  God." 


200  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  Oh  1  what  a  change  comes  over  that  sad  heart, 

Where  all  was  joyous,  light,  and  free  from  care, 
Ali  thoughts  of  peace  do  for  a  time  depart, 
And  yield  to  grief,  and  anguish,  and  despair." 

J.  T.  Watson. 

"His  sweetest  dreams  were  still 
Of  that  dear  voice  that  soothed  his  infancy." 

Robert  Southey. 

"Voice  after  voice  hath  died  away, 

Once  in  my  dwelling  heard, 
Sweet  household  name  by  name  hath  chang'd 

To  grief's  forbidden  word  ! 
From  dreams  of  night  on  each  I  call, 

Each  of  the  far  remov'd; 
And  waken  to  my  own  wild  cry, 

Where  are  ye,  my  belov'd?" 

Felicia  Hemans. 

After  our  mother's  funeral,  and  the  kind 
friends  who  had  ministered  to  us  in  our  sor- 
row, had  left  us,  sister  Maria  returned  to  her 
home  in  Baltimore.  Brother  Andrew,  sister 
Minnie  and  I  remained.  We  were  lonely  and 
disconsolate.  As  we  pondered  upon  the  trials 
we  had  passed  through  our  hearts  sank  within 
us.  But  we  took  comfort  in  the  remembrance 


MAKT   A.    NIEMETEK.  201 

of  our  parents'  lives  and  their  calm  and  holy 
deaths.  We  recalled  teachings  which  to  us 
had  "  priceless  been."  Though  now  Providence 
seemed  estranged,  yet  we  trusted  that  all  was 
for  our  good.  Strength  was  given  by  which 
we  were  enabled  to  bear  our  double  loss  with 
meek  submission. 

We  had  written  to  Charles  and  Fred  the  sad 
news  of  our  parents'  death.  In  a  few  days  we 
received  a  letter  from  Fred  stating  that  he  and 
his  family  had  been  ill  for  some  weeks.  All 
were  greatly  shocked  at  the  unexpected  intel- 
ligence we  had  sent  them,  they  could  with  dif- 
ficulty believe  it.  Even  the  youngest  child  felt 
the  blow.  Brother  Andrew  decided  to  go  to 
Hagerstown  and  engage  in  business;  sister 
Minnie  and  myself  were  left  the  only  occu- 
pants of  a  home,  a  short  time  before  so  full  of 
cheerfulness,  but  where  now  sadness  reigned 
supreme. 

A  number  of  weeks  had  passed  without  our 
hearing  from  Charles.  We  were  sure  he  had 
not  heard  of  the  events  so  recently  occurring 
or  he  would  have  written.  When  some  nine 
weeks  had  elapsed  we  received  a  letter  from 
him  directed  to  father.  It  read  thus — Dear 
Parents:  It  has  been  some  months  since  I- 


202  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

heard  from  you.  Since  then  I  have  travelled 
through  the  greater  part  of  the  Western  States. 
I  am  now  in  Detroit,  Michigan.  The  cause 
of  my  delay  in  writing  to  you,  has  been  the 
uncertainty  of  my  business  arrangements.  I 
have  found  no  suitable  opening. 

Your  loving  son — CHARLES. 

After  Charles  left  home  we  had  frequently 
received  discouraging  letters  from  him.  He 
had  been  absent  some  months,  and  father  had 
written  repeatedly,  urging  him  to  settle  him- 
self to  some  business  and  not  wander  from 
place  to  place.  He  loved  new  scenes,  and  had 
often  said  if  he  had  means  he  would  travel 
over  the  world.  A  few  days  before  father's 
death,  he  wrote  to  Charles,  strongly  advising 
him  at  once  tostrive  tohave  definite  objects  in 
viewr.  He  told  him,  he  hoped  when  next  he 
heard  from  him,  the  advice  he  had  so  often 
given,  would  have  been  acted  upon.  When 
Charles'  answer  came,  father  and  mother  had 
been  some  months  buried. 

Minnie  and  I  were  in  doubt  how  to  break 
the  news  to  him.  We  first  thought  of  asking 
him  to  come  home,  without  telling  him  what 
changes  had  taken  place.  Upon  reflection  we 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER. 

abandoned  this  idea,  as  we  feared  he  might 
postpone  his  return,  if  an  opportunity  of  fur- 
ther   travel    occurred,  and    we   might    again 
lose  all  knowledge  of  his  whereabouts.     We 
consulted  with  friends  as  to  what  course  we 
had  best  take,  they  advised  our  giving  him  the 
full  particulars  of  all  that  had  happened  since 
he  last  heard  from  us,  and  to  urge  him  to  come 
and  settle  in  Middletown  in  the  old  homestead. 
One  week  later  he  was  with  us;  he  had 
started  immediately  after  the  receipt  of  our 
letter,  remaining  in  Baltimore  long  enough-  to 
see  sister  Maria  and  learn  from  her  any  details 
we  had  omitted.     He  was  overcome  with  grief. 
He  would  wander  through  the  house  from  room 
to  room,  saying — "  our  home  is  indeed  deso- 
late."    He  remained  with  us  but  a  few  days. 
He  could  not  endure  seeing  the  many  things 
that  reminded  him  of  our  deceased  parents. 
We  thought  it  best  he  should  find  employment 
elsewhere  in  order  that  his  mind   mi^ht  be 

CT> 

occupied.  He  left  us  promising  not  to  go  fur- 
ther than  Baltimore  or  Washington.  In  a  few 
days  we  received  a  letter  from  him  written 
from  Washington  ;  a  week  later  we  were  sur- 
prised to  hear  from  him  in  Detroit.  This 
greatly  perplexed  us,  but  we  could  only  submit- 


204  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Sister  Maria  wrote  to  us  to  dispose  of  the 
property  to  the  best  advantage  we  could  and 
come  and  live  with  her.  She  was  in  delicate 
health  and  needed  our  services.  The  following 
Spring  we  left  Middletown  and  went  to  Balti- 
more. "We  had  heard  from  Charles  some 
months  back.  He  gave  as  his  reason  for  hav- 
ing returned  to  Detroit  without  consulting  us, 
that  he  hoped  there  to  find  relief  for  his  sor- 
row which  he  had  failed  to  do  when  near  his 
former  home  ;  he  believed  we  would  try  to  dis- 
suade him  from  going,  so  went  without  our 
knowledge.  "We  wrote  offering  all  the  con- 
solation we  could  and  still  requesting  him  to 
come  back  and  locate  near  us. 

We  received  no  answer ;  we  waited  what  we 
considered  a  sufficiently  long  time  then  we 
wrote  to  the  gentleman  with  whom  he  was 
engaged  in  business.  From  him  we  learned 
Charles  was  very  melancholy ;  often  appeared 
sad  and  strange.  He  had  done  all  he  could  to 
cheer  him  but  without  success.  "We  wrote 
ao-ain  unrinsr  him  to  come  to  us.  A  few  weeks 

o  o      o 

later  we  received  a  letter  together  with  a  De- 
troit paper,  announcing  our  brother's  death. 
Dear  reader  this  added  sorrow  seemed  more 
than  I  could  bear.  Charles  had  not  always 


MARY   A.    NIEMETEB.  205 

been  a  devoted  son,  but  he  had  been  to  me  a 
good  and  faithful  brother,  always  loving,  ten- 
der and  generous.  His  heart  was  deeply 
touched  by  my  affliction,  and  he  strove  -in 
every  way  to  add  to  my  comfort  and  happiness. 
I  was  his  favorite  sister  and  he  lavished  gifts 
upon  me.  These  I  value  beyond  expression 
and  hold  as  precious  tokens  of  my  brother's 
love. 

The  sudden  death  of  our  parents  had  shocked 
his  nervous  system  so  severely  that  his  health 
was  greatly  impaired  and  his  mind  yielded  to 
the  pressure.  He  had  always  been  of  an  ex- 
tremely sensitive  temperament,  and  never  quite 
so  strong  physically  as  the  rest  of  us.  Eight 
months  after  our  father's  and  mother's  death, 
he  sank  into  the  grave,  far  from  home,  with 
strangers  only  near. 

My  heart  was  deeply  riven.  I  felt  all  ties 
were  sundering,  earth  seemed  losing  its  every 
charm,  but  Heaven  was  growing  dearer  as  I 
thought  that  there  again  I  could  be  folded  to 
a  mother's  heart,  all  sorrow  past,  all  mourning 
over,  all  tears  dried.  My  very  soul  thrilled 
with  the  longing  for  that  new  life  which  should 
restore  what  was  lost  and  broken  here.  This 


206  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

is  a  common  sympathy,  a  universal  aspiration  ; 
— for  we  feel  the  truth  borne  in  upon  us,— 

"Down  below,  the  wild  November  whistling 

Through  the  beech's  dome  of  burning  red, 
And  the  Autumn  sprinkling  penitential 
Dust  and  ashes  on  the  chestnut's  head. 

Down  below,  a  pall  of  airy  purple, 
Darkly  hanging  from  the  mountain  side, 

And  the  sunset  from  his  eyebrows  staring 
O'er  the  long  roll  of  the  leaden  tide. 

Up  above,  the  tree  with  leaf  unfading, 

By  the  everlasting  river's  brink, 
And  the  sea  of  glass  beyond  whose  margin 

Never  yet  the  sun  was  known  to  sink. 

Down  below,  the  white  wings  of  the  sea-bird 
Dashed  across  the  furrows  dark  with  mould, 

Flitting  like  the  memories  of  our  childhood, 
Through  the  trees  now  waxen  pale  and  old. 

Down  below  imaginations  quivering 
Through  our  human  spirits  like  the  wind, 

Thoughts  that  toss  like  leaves  upon  the  woodland, 
Hopes  like  sea-birds  flashed  across  the  mind. 

Up  above,  the  host  no  man  can  number, 
In  white  robes,  a  palm  in  every  hand, 

Each  some  work  sublime  forever  working, 
In  fhe  spacious  tracts  of  that  great  land. 

Up  above,  Ihe  thoughts  that  know  no  anguish, 
Tender  care,  sweet  love  for  us  below, 

Noble  pity  free  from  anxious  terror, 
Larger  love  without  a  touch  of  woe. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  207 

Down  below,  a  sad  mysterious  music, 
Wailing  through  the  woods  and  on  the  shore, 

Burdened  with  a  grand  majestic  secret, 
That  keeps  sweeping  from  us  evermore. 

Up  above,  £Wnusic  that  entwineth, 
With  eternal  threads  of  golden  sound, 

The  great  poem  of  this  strange  existence, 
All  whose  wondrous  meaning  hath  been  found. 

Down  below,  the  Church,  to  whose  poor  window, 
Glory  by  the  autumnal  trees  is  lent, 

And  a  knot  of  worshippers  in  mourning, 
Missing  some  one  at  the  Sacrament. 

Up  above,  the  burst  of  hallelujah, 

And  (without  the  sacramental  mist 
Wrapt  around  us  like  a  sunlit  halo) 

One  great  vision  of  the  face  of  Christ. 

Down  below,  cold  sunlight  on  the  tombstone, 
And  the  green  wet  turf  with  faded  flowers, 

Winter  roses,  once  like  young  hopes  burning, 
Now  beneath  the  ivy  dripped  with  showers : 

And  the  new  made  grave  within  the  Churchyard, 
And  the  white  cap  on  that  dear  face  pale, 

And  the  watcher  ever  as  it  dusketh 
Rocking  to  and  fro  with  that  long  wail. 

Up  above,  a  crowned  and  happy  spirit, 

Like  an  infant  in  the  eternal  years, 
Who  shall  grow  in  love  and  light    forever, 

Ordered  in  his  place  among  his  peers. 


208  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

O,  the  sobbing  of  the  winds  of  autumn, 
O,  the  desolate  heart  that  grave  above, 

O,  the  white  cap  shaking  as  it  darkens, 
Round  that  shrine  of  memory  and  love. 

O,  the  rest  forever,  and  the  rapture ! 

O,  the  hand  that  wipes  the  tears  away! 
O,  the  golden  homes  beyond  the  sunset, 

And  the  hope  that  watches  o'er  the  clay!" 

How  eloquent  the  teaching,  all  humanity  re- 
sponds to  it  with  loud  voice  and  deep  accord. 
"We  look  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  our  hearts 
are  lifted  up  from  sorrow  and  filled  with  bliss- 
ful contemplations  of  the  glorious  life  await- 
ing us  beyond  the  tomb. 


MARY   A.    NIEMEYER.  209 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

"Death  should  come 

Gently  to  one  of  gentle  mould,  like  thee, 
As  light  winds  wandering  through  groves  of  bloom, 

Detach  the  delicate  blossoms  from  the  tree, 
Close  thy  sweet  eyes  calmly,  and  without  pain, 
And  we  will  trust  in  God  to  see  thee  yet  again." 

Bryant. 

"  Like  the  sweet  melody  which  faintly  lingers 

Upon  the  wind-harp's  strings  at  close  of  day, 
When  gently  touched  by  evening's  dewy  fingers 

It  breathes  a  low  and  melancholy  lay, 
So  the  calm  voice  of  sympathy  me  seemeth; 

And  while  its  magic  spell  is  round  me  cast, 
My  spirit  in  its  cloister'd  silence  dreameth, 
And  vaguely  blends  the  future  with  the  past." 

Mrs.  Embury. 

"  So,  at  the  loom  of  life,  we  weave 

Our  separate  shreds  that  varying  fall, 
Some  stained,  some  fair;  and  passing  leave 
To  God,  the  gathering  up  of  all." 

Lucy  Larcom. 

We  had  now  another  painful  duty  to  per- 
form, that  of  announcing  to  brother  Fred,  still 
living  in  Charleston,  the  death  of  our  brother. 
We  had  seemed  latterly  only  to  have  sad 
tidings  for  him,  and  we  dreaded  writing. 
18 


210  AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF 

Fred  was  of  course  much  shocked,  but  bore 
the  intelligence  more  resignedly  than  we  had 
expected.  We  had  known  so  many  trials,  that 
sorrow  was  losing  its  keenest  edge,  and  we 
were  able  to  bear  more  than  we  had  supposed 
it  possible  we  could.  Our  Heavenly  Father 
had  chastened  us  sorely,  but  He  had  been  with 
us  and  we  were  not  utterly  cast  down.  We 
knew  He  would  give  us  days  of  joy  again 
though  now  sorrow  was  weighing  heavily 
upon  us. 

Brother  Fred  determined  to  remove  to  Bal- 
timore with  his  family.  He  found  the  southern 
climate  very  enervating,  and  as  our  number 
was  now  so  lessened,  he  felt  he  would  like  the 
few  remaining  to  be  near  each  other.  Sister 
Maria's  health  was  failing  fast ;  she  had  for  some 
time  shown  symptoms  of  consumption,  and 
her  disease  was  progressing  rapidly.  We 
watched  her  day  by  day  as  the  hectic  flush 
heightened  in  her  cheek  and  her  hard  dry 
cough  increased.  We  knew  she  was  not  long 
for  this  world.  Our  parents'  and  brother's 
death  had  told  severely  upon  her  strength  and 
it  was  but  too  evident  she  would  soon  follow 
them.  Sister  Minnie  did  all  she  could  to  com- 
fort her  ;  she  never  wearied  nursing  the  inva- 


MABY   A.   NIEMEYEB.  211 

lid,  but  watched  over  her  as  she  had  over  father 
and  mother.  She  was  indeed  a  devoted  daugh- 
ter and  a  faithful  sister.  Our  sister  Maria 
faded  daily ;  we  saw  death's  signet  on  her  brow ; 
and  as  the  Reaper  "with  his  sickle  keen," 
drew  near,  she  meekly  resigned  her  breath  and 
fell  asleep  in  the  arms  of  her  Saviour. 

She  bore  her  sufferings  with  great  fortitude. 
We  thought  our  cup  of  sorrow  full  to  the  brim. 
Her  bereaved  husband  and  his  two  motherless 
children  were  deeply  sympathized  with  by  all 
who  knew  them.  As  the  stricken  father  held 
his  little  ones  to  his  heart  he  felt  they  were  his 
only  treasures.  They  did  not  know  their  loss, 
their  tears  were  only  shed  because  others  older 
grown  wept.  Very  different  to  me  was  my 
sorrow ;  1  understood  how  great  the  void  death 
made  when  1  was  left  in  the  world,  a  bearer 
of  one  heavy  burden,  with  no  mother's  watch- 
ful care  to  make  it  less.  Time  had  assuaged 
the  first  bitter  sense  of  desolation,  my  tears 
had  ceased  to  fall,  but  the  one  star  brighter 
than  all  others  in  my  sky  had  found  its  way 
to  another  sphere;  and  from  my  soul  would 
come  the  sad  thought ; — 

"  I  miss  thec,  my  Mother !   Thy  image  is  still 
The  deepest  impressed  on  my  heart, 


212  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

And  the  tablet  so  faithful,  in  death  must  be  chill 

Ere  a  line  of  that  image  depart. 
Thou  wert  torn  from  my  side  when  I  treasured  thee 
most. 

"When  my  reason  could  measure  thy  worth; 
When  I  knew  but  too  well  that  the  idol  I'd  lose, 

Could  be  never  replaced  upon  earth. 

I  miss  thee,  my  Mother,  in  circles  of  joy, 

Where  I've  mingled  with  rapturous  zest; 
For  how  slight  is  the  touch  that  will  serve  to  destroy 

All  the  fairy  web  spun  in  my  breast. 
Some  melody  sweet  may  be  floating  around — 

'Tis  a  ballad  I  learnt  at  thy  knee; 
Some  strain  may  be  played,  and  I  shrink  from  the 
sound, 

For  my  fingers  oft  woke  it  for  thee. 

I  miss  thee,  my  Mother;    when  health  for  a  season 

has  fled, 
And  I  sink  in  the  languor  of  pain, 

Where,  where  is  the  arm  that  once  pillowed  my  head, 
And  the  ear  that  lovingly  heard  me  complain? 

Other  hands  may  support,  gentle  accents  may  fall — 
For  the  fond  and  the  true  are  yet  mine: 

I've  a  blessing  for  each;  I  am  grateful  to  ail- 
But  whose  care  can  be  soothing  as  thine? 

I  miss  thee,  my  Mother!    Oh,  when  do  I  not. 

Though  I  know  'twas  the  wisdom  of  Heaven 
That  the  deepest  shade  fell  on  my  sunniest-  spot, 

And  such  tie  of  devotion  was  riven ; 
For  when  thou  wert  with  me  my  soul  was  below, 

I  was  chained  to  the  world  I  then  trod; 


MAKT    A.   NIEMEYEK. 

My  affections,  my  thoughts  where  all  earth-bound; 

but  now 
They  have  followed  thy  spirit  to  God ! " 

The  death  of  my  sister,  and  the  thought  of 
her  children  being  left  as  they  were,  so  uncon- 
scious of  what  had  befallen  them,  added  a 
keener  pang  to  my  heart.  I  realized  afresh 
the  sorrow  I  had  so  recently  passed  through, 
and  I  began  to  think  earth  was  indeed  only  a 
vale  of  tears.  Sister  Minnie  and  I  took  the 
little  motherless  ones  and  endeavored  to  the 
utmost  of  our  ability  to  supply  the  place  of 
the  dear  one  they  had  lost.  When  Mr.  I. 
married  again,  we  transferred  our  charge  to  the 
care  of  his  wife.  She  very  soon  succeeded  in 
winning  their  love  as  she  strove  to  do  her 
whole  duty  to  those  Providence  had  entrusted 
to  her. 

The  threads  of  my  simple,  quiet  life  are 
gathered  together.  The  recital  has  not  been 
very  startling,  I  am  well  aware,  yet  doubtless 
there  has  been  outlined  the  prototype  of  more 
lives  than  any  herein  wrought  out;  for  not 
many  are  great  or  wise  in  this  world  of  ours. 
The  humbler  walks  of  life  are  the  crowded 
ways.  The  few  alone  scale  Alpine  heights,  or 
move  in  solitary  grandeur  through  the  throng, 


214  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

A  few  closing  points  may  not  weary  our  very 
patient  reader,  and  I  will  give  them  'ere  I  say 
adieu.  Sister  Minnie  and  I  connected  our- 
selves with  the  Third  Reformed  Church,  the 
one  in  which  I  had  been  confirmed  some  years 
before,  and  of  which  I  had  been  a  member 
during  my  association  with  the  Institution. 
"We  found  the  congregation  as  I  had  known  it 
formerly,  composed  of  generous-hearted,  sym- 
pathetic people,  always  willing  to  do  good  to 
any  among  them  they  found  less  blessed  by 
Providence  than  themselves.  Rev.  Dr.  Gans 
had  succeeded  the  former  pastor.  He  had 
gained  the  aifection  of  his  flock ;  and  like  a 
good  shepherd  he  entreated  them  tenderly  and 
earnestly  to  feed  in  religion's  pastures  and 
green  fields,  that  their  souls  might  grow  in 
good  works,  ripening  for  the  kingdom  on  high. 
Dr.  G.  is  a  pious  and  saintly  man,  and  his  influ- 
ence can  only  advance  the  cause  for  which  he 
toils. 

Mr.  John  Rodenmayer  has  a  large  class  of 
young  ladies  in  the  Sabbath  School;  and  I 
have  for  some  time  enjoyed  his  instruction  and 
Christian  counsel,  and  have  greatly' profited 
thereby.  The  school  has  an  able  Superinten- 
dent in  Mr.  "Wm.  F.  Richstein. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  215 

When  we  had  been  awhile  settled  in  Balti- 
more, we  were  greatly  distressed  to  learn  the 
death  of  a  dear  friend,  formerly  a  resident  of 
Middletown,  but  who  latterly  had  made  the 
West  her  home,  Miss  Clara  Williamson.  She 
was  young  and  beautiful  and  life  was  full  of 
promise  for  her,  but  the  Destroyer  came  and 
the  roses  paled  before  the  lilies'  breath.  She 
was  generally  beloved  and  many  eulogies  were 
paid  her  memory.  So  pretty,  so  gentle  and 
sweet, — 

"Tia  difficult  to  feel  that  she  is  dead, 
Her  presence  like  the  shadow  of  a  wing 
That  is  just  lessening  in  the  upper  sky, 
Lingers  upon  us.    We  can  hear  her  voice 
And  for  her  step  we  listen — and  the  eye 
Looks  for  her  wonted  coming — with  a  strange 
Forgetful  earnestness. 

Many  others  who  were  our  kind  sympathi- 
zers when  distresses  followed  close  upon  each 
other,  we  shall  hold  in  lasting  remembrance.  A 
number  were  unwearying  in  their  attentions, 
and  though  we  are  now  separated  still  we  love 
to  linger  upon  their  many  acts  of  friendship. 
Such  as  these  are  often  with  us  in  thought 
when  "  the  hours  of  day  are  numbered,"  and 


216  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

we  sit  down  to  ponder  upon  the  loved  and  dis- 
tant ones.  When  the  chilly  Autumn  shuts  us, 
at  the  even  time,  within  doors,  memory  brings 
back  to  us  these  absent  friends,  these  guests 
of  the  heart.  Often  I  sit  musing  upon  them,— 
while 

"  Soft  falls  through  the  gathering  twilight, 

The  rain  from  the  dripping  eaves, 
And  stirs  with  a  tremulous  rustle 
.  The  dead  and  dying  leaves; 
While  afar,  in  the  midst  of  the  shadows, 

I  hear  the  sweet  voices  of  bells, 
Come  borne  on  the  wind  of  the  Autumn, 

That  fitfully  rises  and  swells. 

They  call  and  they  answer  each  other, 

They  answer  and  mingle  again, 
As  the  deep  and  the  shrill  in  an  anthem 

Make  harmony  still  in  their  strain, 
As  the  voices  of  sentinels  mingle 

In  the  mountainous  regions  of  snow, 
Till  from  hill-top  to  hill-top  a  chorus 

Floats  down  to  the  valleys  below. 

The  shadows,  the  firelight  of  even, 

The  sound  of  the  rain's  distant  chime, 
Come  bringing,  with  rain  softly  dropping, 

Sweet  thoughts  of  a  shadowy  time; 
The  slumberous  sense  of  seclusion, 

From  storm  and  intruders  aloof, 
We  feel  when  we  hear  in  the  midnight 

The  patter  of  rain  on  the  roof. 


MARY    A.    KIEMEYER.  217 

When  the  spirit  goes  forth  in  its  yearnings 

To  take  all  its  wanderers  home; 
Or,  afar,  in  the  regions  of  fancy, 

Delights  on  swift  pinions  to  roam, 
I  quietly  sit  by  the  firelight — 

The  firelight  so  bright  and  so  warm — 
For  I  know  those  only  who  love  me 

Will  seek  me  through  shadow  and  storm. 

But  should  they  be  absent  this  evening, 

Should  even  the  household  depart, 
Deserted,  I  should  not  be  lonely, 

There  still  would  be  guests  in  my  heart. 
The  faces  of  friends  that  I  cherish, 

The  smile,  and  the  grasp  and  the  tone, 
Will  haunt  me  wherever  I  wander, 

And  thus  I  am  never  alone. 

With  those  who  have  left  far  behind  them 

The  joys  and  the  sorrows  of  time — 
Who  sing  the  sweet  songs  of  the  angels 

In  a  purer  and  holier  clime. 
Then  darkly,  O,  evening  of  Autumn, 

Your  rain  and  your  shadows  may  fall: 
My  loved  and  my  lost  ones  you  bring  me — 

My  heart  holds  a  feast  with  them  all." 


218  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years— in  thoughts, not  breaths — 
In  feelings  not  in  figures  on  a  dial; 
We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.    He  most  lives, 
Who  thinks  most— feels  the  noblest— acts  the  best." 

Bailey's  Festus. 

"  Heaven  doth  with  us  as  we  with  torches  do ; 
Not  light  them  for  themselves ;  for  if  our  virtues 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us  'twere  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not." 

Shakspere's  Measure  for  Measure. 

"  Fare  the  well,— and  may  th'  indulgent  gods 
*        *        *        *        grant  thee  every  wish 
Thy  soul  can  form!    Once  more  farewell!" 

Sophocles. 

"A  double  blessing  is  a  double  grace; 
Occasion  smiles  upon  a  second  leave. 
There, — my  blessing  with  you ! " 

tShakspere's  Hamlet. 

The  narration  of  the  events  of  our  quite  life 
is  now  complete.  We  hope  it  has  afforded  a 
degree  of  pleasure.  There  remains  now  but  a 
parting  tribute  of  gratitude  to  who  have  for 
many  years  been  the  warm  friends  'and  elo- 
quent advocates  of  the  cause  of  the  blind,  and 
who  have  by  their  practical  benevolence  done 


MAKY   A.    KIEMEYEB.  219 

much  towards  lifting  this  unfortunate  class 
out  of  darkness  into  the  marvellous  light  of 
knowledge. 

Among  these  in  honored  distinction  as  the 
earliest  friends  who  undertook  the  effort  to 
educate  the  blind  should  be  named — the  late 
Judge  Glenn,  Jacob  I.  Cohen,  and  Charles 
Howard;  these  gentlemen  labored  zealously 
and  verily  their  good  works  have  followed 
them ;  their  earnest  endeavors  are  now  his- 
toric, but  these  philantropists,  pioneers  in  the 
cause,  as  they  were,  will  be  often  spoken  ot 
gratefully  by  those  who  never  knew  them,  yet 
who  still  have  reaped  the  benefit  of  their  lib- 
erality. 

Jacob  Trust,  Benjamin  F.  Newcomer  and 
Dr.  Wm.  Fisher  have  been  at  all  times  devoted 
to  this  benevolence,  and  will  ever  be  warmly 
appreciated  by  all  in  whose  behalf  they  have 
shown  so  great  interest. 

J.  Howard  McHenry,  President  of  the  Board 
of  Directors,  and  John  T.  Morris,  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  the  efficient  Secretary,  should 
have  high  encomium  for  their  labors  for  the 
advancement  of  the  blind.  They  express  the 
humanitarian  in  their  every  act,  large  in  sym- 
pathy, liberal  in  the  practical  development  of 


220  AUTOBIOGKArilY    OF 

the  same,  and  with  the  most  enlightened  views 
as  to  the  probable  good  that  may  be  attained 
by  a  careful  study  of  the  cause,  they  justly 
receive  from  those  they  so  magnanimously 
serve,  gratitude,  that  no  words  may  adequately 
express ;  but  which  pulsates  in  hearts  full  to 
overflowing  with  appreciation  of  their  many 
deeds  of  kindness. 

If  a  man  or  woman  wishes  to  realize  the 
full  power  of  living,  it  must  be  by  cherishing 
noble  hopes  and  purposes ;  by  having  something 
to  do  and  something  to  live  for,  which  is  worthy 
of  humanity,  and  which,  by  expanding  the  ca- 
pacities of  the  soul,  elevates  to  God-like  capa- 
bilities the  whole  being,  giving  expansion  and 
symmetry  as  well  to  the  body,  which  contains 
the  spiritual  essence  of  existence,  and  beautify- 
ing it  with  dignified  expression.  This  is  no  new 
argument  but  one  old  as  Creation  itself.  It  is 
besides  sound  philosophy,  and  we  may  indulge 
a  just  pride  that  among  our  fellow  men  are  to 
be  found  exponents  every  day  and  every  where 
of  this  elevated  teaching.  There  are  those  all 
around  us  whose  first  aim  in  life  is  to  aid  the 
needy,  to  lift  the  fallen,  to  cheer  the  bereaved ; 
and  there  are  no  holier  offices,  no  more  pious 
purposes. 


MARY    A.    NIEMEYEK.  221 

We  have  alluded  gratefully,  as  we  found  it 
in  our  heart  to  do,  to  the  Officers  and  Directors 
of  the  Institution  for  the  instruction  of  the 
blind,  Maryland's  greatest  benevolence;  and 
we  must  not  in  this  connection  omit  reference 
to  the  Committee  of  Female  Yisitors.  Many 
of  these  ladies  have  been  friends  of  the  Insti- 
tution during  its  years  of  trial  and  vicissitude, 
have  taken  active  interest  in  this  noble  charity, 
and  have  at  last,  as  a  result  of  the  harmoni- 
ous working  of  all  who  had  espoused  it,  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  their  labors  crowned  with 
success.  Among  these  kind  patrons,  while  all 
are  thankfully  remembered,  we  may  be  permit- 
ted to  make  especial  mention  of  Mrs.  Isabella 
Brown  ;  this  lady  has  been  a  large  contributor 
to  the  material  prosperity  and  general  welfare 
of  the  blind.  We  have  thus  far  made  no  men- 
tion of  the  friend  and  physician  of  the  Institu- 
tion, Dr.  James  A.  Steuart ;  but  we  are  not 
willing  to  close  the  book  without  testifying  to 
his  watchfulness  and  care.  The  general  health 
of  the  pupils  was  largely  attributable  to  his 
skillful  supervision.  We  appreciated  this, 
for  had  our  every  other  blessing  been  con- 
tinued, and  this  one  not  been  ours  to  enjoy, 


222  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

existence  in  the  Institution  with  all  its  privi- 
leges, would  have  been  only  a  weariness. 

Now  Gentle  Reader,  a  tender  wish,  a  loving 
word,  a  fond  adieu,  and  we  part,  myself  the  hap- 
pier that  we  have  met ;  for  your  perusal  of  the 
pages  of  the  modest  life  presented  you,  has  en- 
couraged, though  so  silently,  the  endeavor  made 
to  draw  some  teachings  from  usual  experiences, 
and  make  them  interesting. 

We  hope  no  shadow,  that  can  not  be  re- 
moved, has  darkened  your  path  ;  but  that  the 
light  of  Nature's  glorious  Sun  has  shone  upon 
your  outward  life,  as  that  of  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness has  illumed  your  inner  being,  making 
bright  with  happiness  that  cannot  pale  or 
change,  all  your  soul's  fair  chambers. 

For  ourselves  we  have  learned  the  blissful 
truth  of  Jehovah's  promise, — "  I  will  bring  the 
blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  not ;  I  will  lead 
them  in  paths  that  they  have  not  known:  I 
will  make  darkness  light  before  them,  and 
crooked  things  straight.  These  things  will  I 
do  unto  them  and  not  forsake  them."  He  has 
said,  and  His  word  cannot  fail,  He  would 
"  open  the  blind  eyes,"  this  to  us  is  a  precious 
thought,  which  though  in  its  fullest  sense  we 
may  not  realize  with  our  earthly  vision,  yet  in 


MART   A.    NIEMEYER.  223 

the  Great  Beyond  we  know  that  we  shall  with 
rapturous  exhultation, 

"  Hail,  holy  Light,  offspring  of  Heav'n  first-born, 
Or  of  th'  Eternal  co-eternal  beam, 
Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  increate." 

Our  spirits  take  fresh  courage  in  the  blest  assu- 
rance, and  look  upon  this  lower  life  as  but  the 
vestibule  of  that  higher  one  we  hope  to  attain. 
The  story  is  told  unto  its  end,  and  yet  we 
linger  to  leave  a  last  adieu  for  the  kindly 
scanner  of  these  pages.  We  shall  never  meet 
again,  but  we  are  friends,  and  shall  ever  think 
gently  of  each  other ; — a  moment,  and  we  are 
separated : 

"  I  have  no  parting  glance  to  give, 
So  take  my  parting  smile." 


UMlVJSiCglTX  UF 

AT 
LOS  ANGELES 


HV 

1624 

N55A2 


